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kpophours · 3 years

Text

Haven

➵ Stray Kids: Jisung x fem. reader / one shot, college AU, frenemies to lovers AU / fluff

➵ warnings: slight cursing, mentions of alcohol/drinking, a teeny tiny bit sexual suggestiveness (nothing explicit)

➵ word count: 6k

It’s not even 8am, and your eyes feel as dry as sandpaper while your head is pounding with a slight migraine. You’re currently getting everything ready for the crowd of caffeine addicts that will soon arrive at the café you work at. It’s way too early to deal with the horde of zombies called students, but you got stuck with the worst shift of the day - starting at 7.30am which, in your opinion, is just inhuman. Stupid Minho and his stupid luck whenever it comes to drawing straws. For some reason, you always end up getting the shortest one. At least you’ll be done with work before most people your age have even made it out of bed. Still, right now you’d give almost everything to be back in your blanket burrito. Earning money is hard and annoying. If you’ve ever wondered if working at a café could ruin the beauty of coffee… the answer is yes. Because capitalism destroys everything, leaving no survivors.

“Good morning, Y/N!”, your co-worker and the other unlucky one having drawn one of the shorter straws chirps when she enters the café, and you grimace - Sana’s voice is way too cheerful so early in the morning. You only give her a curt nod of your head, not in the mood to talk right now. You’re not really in the mood to do anything, if you’re being honest. Ugh, you hate the morning shift. You’re currently 80% tired, but 20% also tired - you don’t even remember what it’s like to not be tired anymore. College is great!

Sana doesn’t seem to mind your grumpiness though, being the sweetheart that she simply is, and begins to wipe the counter while humming a cheery song under her breath. It’s only her second week at work, but so far she’s proven to be a better and more reliable part-timer than the last three who had worked here. Jun is usually a nice and caring boss, but he has some strict rules - always be on time, no drinking coffee while you’re working, don’t take more breaks than necessary, and don’t give out free drinks to your friends. The last three part-timers had broken at least one of these rules, so Jun had let them go again. Sana is doing well so far, and you think that Jun has maybe even taken a liking to her - not that you can blame him, she’s not only super nice and a general sunshine, but also incredibly beautiful and funny. You’re always happy whenever you work a shift with her. She’s a student like yourself, and wants to become a kindergarten teacher. You’d never let your children near her though, too scared they’d like her more than you - not that you could actually blame them. “Shall I put on some music?”, Sana asks after she’s finished with wiping everything down, and you just nod, finally being done with prepping the giant coffee machines. Just seconds later, smooth lounge music fills the cozy space of the café, and you inhale deeply.

Maybe you lied earlier. Capitalism did not destroy coffee for you, you still very much love the scent, taste, and especially the effect of it. You check the time, noticing you still have about 15 minutes left before you have to open the café - meaning you have more than enough time to enjoy a nice cup of coffee with Sana. She immediately agrees to drink a cappuccino with you, and just minutes later, you bask in the fresh scent of grounded coffee beans. Sana sighs deeply after having taken the first sip, and gives you a bright smile. “Heavenly. You truly make the best coffee out of all of us, Y/N!”, she compliments you, and you tilt your head to one side. Thanks to the caffeine in your system, you’re finally ready to talk to her now. “Well, if my academic brilliance proves futile, I can always become the best barista in the world, I guess. And by the way, don’t let Minho hear you say that, or he’ll force you to taste all the coffee he makes, resulting in you overdosing on caffeine. You know what he‘s like.”, you answer, and Sana giggles. “Well, I stand with what I said, and I’ll even say it to his face. He needs to learn that he can’t always be the best at everything.” You raise one eyebrow, lips twitching. “No offense, but I don’t think he’s ever been the best at anything so far, he’s just very good at pretending. He basically invented the phrase “fake it till you make it”.”

Before Sana can reply, there’s a knock against one of the café’s windows. Surprised, you look up, and groan when you see a familiar face staring back at you. “What is he doing here?!”, you grumble, and place your mug on the counter, not moving a single muscle. But Sana, being her nice and angelic self, is already walking towards the door of the café, and before you can protest, she’s already unlocked it. Jisung jumps over the threshold, sporting a bright grin. He greets Sana with a hug, before sliding his giant headphones off his ears. “Moooorning.”, he says, with at least five Os. You’re already annoyed. You’ve known Jisung for… well. For a long time. Too long, some would say (you, for example). Your moms have been close friends since their own college years, and while they thankfully didn’t move into the same neighborhood, they ended up living quite close to each other. Meaning Jisung had been there for pretty much you entire childhood and teenage years - at every single one of your birthday parties, at most Christmases, and sometimes even at Easter (even though neither of your families really celebrated Easter). You’ve also gone on hiking trips together, and on wildlife expeditions, and on holidays by the seaside… In almost all your memories, there’s Jisung.

“Ugh, why are you so obsessed with me?”, you whine when he leans over the counter to grab your mug and take a sip of your coffee, “There are literally hundreds of colleges and you had to go choose the one I’m attending?!” He grins, puffing out his stupidly adorable hamster cheeks. “I’d never be so cruel and rid you of my pleasant company, my dearest Y/N.”, he answers, dark eyes sparkling with humor. You just huff and turn around. “The usual?”, you ask in a flat voice, and he hums in confirmation. To say you hate Jisung would be a severe overstatement, you just often strongly... dislike him. And feel annoyed whenever he’s around. Mostly because he’s a walking disaster, who kinda thinks the world revolves around him (you blame him being an only child for that). One of your most vivid and probably also traumatic childhood memories is of your sixth birthday party: you had gotten a brand new, soft green bicycle, falling in love with it as soon as you laid eyes on it. Naturally, you had wanted to take it around the block for a little test drive, but all of the sudden, Jisung had thrown a big tantrum until your mom had made you give him the bike first. And being the clumsy child that he simply was (and kinda still is), he had crashed your beautiful new bike into a tree. The tree had won that battle, the handle bar completely bent, same with the front wheel. So you and your bike had been a very short love story with a tragic ending. Romeo and Juliet had nothing on you. And this instance has only been one of many - Jisung had also accidentally sat on your birthday cake once (till this day, you have no idea how he’d even managed to do that). He had also ruined one of your favorite jumpers by dumping ink all over it, had tipped over the canoe when you’d been happily paddling on a lake one summer day, and had given you a black eye when you went mini golfing for your eleventh birthday.

So Han Jisung has always been - and probably will always be - a walking disaster. Being his friend means you have a “Why is he like that” moment at least five times a day. Your biggest fear at the moment is that he’s accidentally going to sit on your brand new laptop and break it, the one you had been saving up for for over two years. And then you’ll just have to kill him which will probably make his very nice mom very sad. But as the bible clearly states: an eye for an eye, a life for a laptop. Or maybe he’s just going to set your whole apartment on fire - he’s truly a mess inside the kitchen, you sadly know that from experience (note to self: never try to bake cookies with Jisung ever again). Your old dorm kitchen will probably never recover from that one particular incident that ended with half the building having to be evacuated. This is one of the reasons why Jisung hasn’t been at your new place yet. The second one being that you also only just moved into it a few weeks ago. Ever since moving, he’s been pestering you though, asking you to have a movie night with him at your new place. Like you said, he’s kinda obsessed with you. He also literally spends every morning at the café you work at - or well, you just assume it’s every morning. As you’re a part timer, you don’t actually have to work every single morning, but he’s definitely always here when you have drawn one of the short straws again.

You quickly busy yourself with making a flat white for Jisung, his preferred drink of choice, while he continues to chat with Sana. They know each other thanks to a mutual friend of theirs, Chan - he’s one of Jisung’s roommates as well as Sana’s best friend. Everyone on campus knows Chan: he’s on the student council, he plays for the baseball team, and he’s one of the most promising music majors you’ve ever seen (or well, heard), already being scouted by different labels even though he’s not even a senior yet. And he’s also just so nice and down to earth, truly a prime example of a man. Jisung should really take a leaf out of Chan’s book.

“Here you go.”, you say while sliding Jisung’s finished order his way, taking your own mug out of his hands while doing so. You quickly shake your head when he wants to hand you his credit card, and he shoots you a happy smile. Jun would probably fire you instantly if he knew about this, but not once have you let Jisung pay for his coffee - and you’ve been working here for almost four months now. You try to ignore the way your stomach jolts when Jisung locks eyes with you, but fail miserably. So maybe he has the most beautiful smile in the whole world, and maybe his eyes hold entire galaxies in them, but what about it? It’s not like you even really like him, right?

You turn around and pretend to wipe down the coffee machine, but in reality, you just don’t want to look at Jisung’s cute hamster cheeks anymore, because they just make you want to squish them. And you have a reputation to lose. “Well, I’m off to my lecture now - I hope your day will be pleasant, ladies!”, Jisung finally says, and you turn around, catching him giving you a mock salute and mischievous wink. You just wave at him, while Sana wishes him a good day as well. As soon as the door falls close behind him again, you exhale. You really need to get a grip on yourself.

It’s Friday night, and there’s a party at Jisung’s frat house. At first, you don’t want to go, but your roommate Amber basically drags you with her. You know she’s only going because she has the biggest crush on Chan, and you honestly can’t even blame her - half the girls on campus have a crush on him after all, and at least a third of the guys. But while Amber and Chan are good friends, nothing more has ever been going on between them - not yet, that is. Who knows, maybe tonight’s finally the night.

You’re currently sipping on some stale beer Seungmin - one of Jisung’s roommates - had handed you the second you stepped over the threshold of the frat house, scanning the room for people you know. Amber is off to greet some friends from her architecture class, so you’re on your own for now. Which is fine, you don’t really mind just standing in the corner to observe the other guests, it’s actually highly entertaining. For example, there’s one guy twerking like crazy to some Beyoncé song. You think his name is Kevin and he’s in your calc class. A friend of his is currently hyping him up like crazy, while another one with green dyed hair is clearly wishing he was somewhere entirely else. You honestly can’t blame him, the secondhand-embarrassment way too real. A few seconds later, Sana enters the room with a group of girls, and she happily waves at you as soon as she spots you. You simply return her smile, before continuing to watch Kevin.

“Enjoying the show?”, someone beside you suddenly asks, and you jump, dumping some of your beer over your shirt. “Oh fuck you!”, you yelp, and turn around to glare at Minho’s shit-eating grin, “You definitely scared me on purpose!” “Fuck... me? Absolutely, just name the time and place, babe.”, he answers, and you smack his chest. “Not even in your wildest dreams, Lee.”, you reply, and narrow your eyes at him. He pouts playfully. “I just think we’d make a really great couple.”, he argues, and you shake your head. “Well, society should be able to limit what some people are allowed to think, then.”, you retort, voice flat, and he ruffles your hair. “You know what I love about you? You’re kinda mean and annoying, but unapologetically so.”, he says, and you raise one eyebrow. “I might be kinda mean and annoying, but at least my lock screen isn’t a selfie.” At this, Minho gasps dramatically, and protectively clutches his phone to his chest. “I mean, I could always change it to one of your selfies, you know?”, he then suggests, making you groan. He’s clearly drunk already or else he wouldn’t be flirting like this. If this sad attempt can even be considered flirting, it’s probably just him being his annoying and arrogant Scorpio self. Minho sighs deeply. “When will you finally accept my eternal love for you, Y/N?”, he asks, and tries to grab one of your hands, but you just smack him again. “Maybe when you finally stop cheating at drawing straws! I have the Monday morning shift again!”, you hiss, and he smirks. “You’ll never know my secret.”, he says smugly, and empties his cup in one single gulp.

You begin to pout and take a sip from your own cup, eyes wandering towards where Kevin is still throwing it back on the dance floor. “If I ever do something remotely like that, just take me out, and instantly.”, you say, an exasperated expression on your face. “On a date or with a sniper?”, a familiar voice on your other side suddenly asks, and you sigh internally. “Han.”, you greet your favorite frenemy, and Jisung grins while wrapping one arm around your shoulder. “Nice to see you accepted my invite.”, he says, and you quickly duck out of his embrace, trying to ignore your racing heart. Minho just wiggles his eyebrows at you, before flashing you a shit-eating grin and disappearing from view. Traitor.

“I only came because Amber asked me to.”, you explain, and stand on your tiptoes to look for your friend. Seriously, where did she even go?! It’s been at least 15 minutes since she left you on your own. “You can just admit that you missed my handsome face, you know.”, Jisung says, and you snort. “Yeah, whatever you say, hamster boy.” He groans, ruffling his hair with one hand and making it stand on end. You desperately suppress the need to flatten it again, and quickly take another sip of your beer. “Don’t you get tired of using that old nickname? Plus, my cheeks aren’t as chubby anymore! I have finally lost all my baby fat, the glow up we’ve all been desperately waiting for!”, he says, and you suppress a smile, looking him up and down. “I guess some people would agree that you don’t look bad.”, you finally reply, and ignore the way your heart flutters when he shoots you a wide grin. “Aww, you old softie, I knew you actually liked me.”, he says, lovingly punching your shoulder. You grimace, rubbing the spot he hit - you know he and Chan have started to work out recently, and apparently, Jisung doesn’t know his own strength anymore. “Now don’t get all sappy on me, just because I might have erased your name out of my death note.”, you reply, quickly draining your cup to hide your blush, and mumble something about getting a new drink before basically running away from him. When you enter the kitchen, you exhale deeply. Your hands are shaking, your heart is racing and you know the blush is still very prominent on your cheeks.

So yeah, maybe you’re kinda a bit in love with Han Jisung. He might be a complete mess, but he’s also funny, hard-working, intelligent and something close to a musical genius. And yeah, maybe you absolutely adore his stupid hamster cheeks, bright smile and beautiful dark chocolate eyes. You close your eyes for a few seconds, groaning internally. You don’t want to be in love with Han Jisung! There is literally no other person you want to be less in love with. Okay, except for Lee Minho, simply because you just couldn’t bring yourself to ever date a Scorpio, no offense. But Han Jisung is at least a close second!

You can’t even say when you first began to develop these kinds of feelings for him. After graduating high school, you had finally realized how much you’d actually miss Jisung’s constant presence once you had to go off to different colleges. You’re almost embarrassed to admit how your heart had leaped when he told you he’d actually be going to the same college as you. Maybe you had truly just always kind of loved him - him and his weird antics. He’s always been himself, and unapologetically so. In the modern world of snapchat filters, snow apps and facetune, he’s always felt real to you.

You shake your head, trying to get rid of these thoughts, and groan again. After you’ve refilled your red party cup, you drown it in a few gulps, repeating the process a few times. Drowning your feelings might not be the responsible thing to do just now, but well, you’re only in your early twenties, so you still have lots of time to become a more responsible adult in the future.

Half an hour later, you have probably drunk way too much beer and are also still trying to figure out where Amber has gone. So you finally decide to go search for her, noticing that for some reason, the floor seems to tilt a bit with every step you take. “Weeeeird.”, you mumble, squinting your eyes, “That’s new.” Just then, you manage to walk into someone, soaking their entire backside with your beer. The person yelps loudly, before turning around to glare at you. Your brain needs a few seconds to recognizes the handsome face, and when it finally does, you give him a bright smile while slurring “Hyunjiiiiiin.”, squishing his face between your hands. The boy turns from annoyed to alarmed, and pries your hands from his face while narrowing his eyes at you. “Okay, what and how much did you drink, Y/N?!” Your smile gets even wider. “Only the best kind of alcohol, which is a lot!” Hyunjin just groans and begins to look around for someone. “Where is Han when you need him?!” With that, he wraps one arm around your waist to pull you with him and through the crowd. You hold onto him like your life depends on it - and the way the floor is swaying from side to side right now, it truly just might. You make a disgusted sound when your hand touches Hyunjin’s soaked shirt. “You’re wet, do you know that?”, you mumble, head lulling around until Hyunjin gently guides it to rest against his shoulder. “Yeah, surprisingly I do.”, he says, but in your current state, his sarcasm gets totally lost on you. “You should change, it’s freezing outside, and we don’t want you to catch a cold!”, you tell him off, and he groans, half amused, half exasperated. “I promise I will change as soon as I’ve found Han.”

You raise both eyebrows at that. “Why do you need to find Jisung? Does he have clothes for you?” Just then, Hyunjin seems to find the desired person, sighing in relief. “Hey, Han! I think your girlfriend has had a little bit too much to drink tonight.”, he yells over the music, and you frown. “His girlfriend? Since when does Jisung have a girlfriend?! And why hasn’t he told me about her?! I’m his oldest friend! Like, not old in the sense of actually being old, but in the sense of time spent toge-”, before you can ramble on, Hyunjin basically shoves you into Jisung’s outstretched arms. “Here, she’s your responsibility now! Take her home or whatever. I’m gonna go change.”, he says curtly, before turning around and marching off. You wave at his retreating backside, before you look up at Jisung, who sports a very confused expression. “Uh, what exactly happened?”, he asks, taking in your glossy eyes, flushed cheeks and lopsided smile, “Shit, are you drunk?! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk!” He actually looks amazed, and you can’t help but ruffle his dark hair. It feels silky when it slips through your fingers, and you giggle to yourself. “Nice.”, you murmur, before you glare at him, “So, you have a girlfriend and didn’t tell me about her?! That’s rather rude, you know? We’re friends, after all! The oldest friends ever! I tell you almost everything.” Jisung just blinks a few times, before he shakes his head in disbelief. “Uh, okay, maybe I should bring you home.”, he murmurs, and wraps his arms even tighter around your waist, “Where’s your stuff?” You shrug while snuggling closer to him to bury your face in the crook of his neck. He yelps, and freezes for a few seconds, before he sighs and drags you towards one of the sofas. “Wait here, okay? I’ll be back in a second.”, he murmurs softly, and tugs some of you hair behind your ear. You lean into his touch, and close your eyes while nodding. The last thing you hear is his low chuckle.

Bright sunlight greets you the second you try to open your eyes. You groan and decide it’s better to just close them again. Seeing is overrated anyway, especially when your head is pounding like crazy. Mh, maybe you did drink a little bit too much yesterday.

“Are you alive? Groan once for yes, twice for no.”

You truly love your roommate, but right now, you’re prepared to throw her out the window as her voice cuts through your hazy state like a knife. Still, you manage to groan once.

“Okay, good. There’s water on your bedside table, and some aspirin. Take it.”

For the second time this morning (or midday, you honestly have no idea what time it is), you try to open your eyes, just a teeny tiny bit. Still half blind, you carefully fumble for said things on your bedside table. After taking the aspirin and drinking some water, you sigh in relief and fall back into your pillows. “You were really out of it yesterday, huh? Any reason for drinking for at least three people?”, Amber asks, her voice laced with quiet humor. You just grumble something unintelligible, and she chuckles. “Do you remember who brought you home?”

You finally turn around to look at her, raising one eyebrow. “... You?”, you guess, and she presses her lips together to try and stifle her shit-eating grin - she fails though. “Nope. I was kinda busy.”, she just answers, a smug expression on her face. You finally manage to sit up, ruffling your messy bed hair. “Busy doing what? Now that I think of it, I remember you were gone from my side the second we stepped foot inside the frat house. Talk about loyalty.” You try not to sound too offended, but while you don’t remember much from last night, you do remember that you spent some time looking for it, but in vain. “Chan.”, Amber just answers, and you squeal - regretting it a split second later when a sharp pain shoots through your head. “Remind me to never make that noise again while I’m nursing a hangover.”, you say, holding your head between your hands, and Amber giggles. “Noted. But yeah, Chan and I… well. Let’s just say we had a good night.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, and you return her grin. “Well, congrats, then! You snatched the Bang Chan, props to you.” Her smile softens, and she sighs dreamily. “He even asked me on a date afterwards. So we’re going out to get some pasta tonight.”, she tells you, and your smile gets even bigger. “I’m so happy for you, Amber. He’s a really great guy, and you deserve a really great guy.”, you say gently, and she nods. “Damn right I do. But speaking of a really great guy - Jisung was actually the one to bring you home last night.”, she explains, grinning smugly when she sees your shocked expression. “He did what now?!”, you ask, not ready to believe her, at least not yet. Amber leans back on her elbows, obviously enjoying this way too much. “Well, after you drank about half the alcohol the boys bought for the party, you decided to give Hyunjin a beer shower, who immediately realized it was definitely time to get you home, so he went searching for Jisung who then brought you to our apartment. No idea what happened after you left the frat house though, I only got to know about this because Hyunjin told Chan who told me.”

You bury your face in your pillow and let out a long, miserable noise. You sound a bit like a dying whale which makes Amber laugh. “Ah, come on, it’s not that bad. You and Jisung are friends after all, I’m sure he saw you drunk lots of times already!”

You shake your head.

“Wait, he hasn’t?!”

“Nope. I very rarely get drunk, and it’s not like Jisung and I are actual friends like that - friends who take care of each other and so on, you know?”, you try to explain, and Amber frowns. “What do you mean? Y/N, you and Jisung have known each other since forever, you hang out constantly, and you always talk about him with endless adoration - well, and a bit of annoyance too, to be fair. But what do you mean you’re not friends “like that”?!” You blink at her, surprise written all over your face. “I don’t talk about him with endless adoration!”, you disagree. Amber just gives you a very long, hard look, and you begin gnawing at your lip. “I… do?”, you ask in a small voice, and she nods. “You talk to him every day, Y/N, and you talk about him even more. It would be annoying if it weren’t also extremely cute.”, she replies, and begins filing her nails, lips twitching while she watches you trying to digest what she’s just told you. “I guess… I should at least message him to thank him for bringing me home.”

“And for tucking you into bed.”

You groan and throw your pillow at Amber. She catches it and laughs. “What, you looked very cozy and all snuggled up when I came home! And I doubt you yourself did that, at least if Hyunjin told the truth about the amount of alcohol you consumed yesterday.”

You look yourself up and down, noticing that you’re not wearing your clothes from last night anymore, but your favorite pj’s, the ones with little succulents on it. “Does this mean…”, you whisper, but shake your head, “Nope, not even going there. I’m way too sleep-deprived and hangover to deal with any of that right now.” Amber grins and shrugs. “Just go ask Jisung, I’m sure he can fill you in on everything.” You groan again, and fall back onto your bed. “I’ll have to take a shower first.”, you mumble, and close your eyes again. “Yes, please do, you reek of stale beer.” And with that, your roommate throws your pillow back at you.

It’s already about to get dark again when you arrive at the frat house, nervously bouncing on your feet for a few seconds before you finally gather the courage to knock on the front door. You quickly stuff your hands back into the pockets of your leather jacket, gnawing at your lower lip while waiting for someone to open the door. Just a few minutes later, Hyunjin’s tired face greets you. He raises both eyebrows when he lays eyes on you, immediately noticing your nervous expression. “Hi.”, you say, and give him a small smile. He leans against the doorframe, and crosses both arms over his chest. “Hi yourself. You actually look less zombie-like than expected.” You roll your eyes. “Thanks, today’s look is inspired by sleep deprivation and a mean hangover. Water and aspirin helped though, or else I could have auditioned for The Walking Dead.”, you grumble, “And uh… Thanks for yesterday, by the way. I’m really sorry about your shirt, I heard I dumped beer all over it.” Hyunjin cracks a smile at that, and shrugs. “Yeah, but it’s fine. The washing machine will take care of that. Wanna come in?”, he asks, and you nod, quickly following him inside the warmth of the parlor.

Surprisingly, the house looks clean and tidy again - the guys must have spent the entire day getting rid of last night’s mess. You’re actually impressed. “Han is in his room.”, Hyunjin says, before you even have the chance to ask, and you gulp nervously. “O-okay…”, you mumble, and are just about to walk up the stairs, when Hyunjin tugs on your sleeve. You turn around to face him again, expression questioning. The boy gnaws at his lip, looking nervous. “Just… Finally tell him, okay? I’m like, literally begging you.”, he then says, and you narrow your eyes at him. “Tell him what, exactly?”, you inquire, but Hyunjin only gives you an exasperated gaze. “You know exactly what. We’re all tired of you guys pining after each other but not actually doing anything about your feelings. Quick reminder: this is not a cheesy rom-com where you have to wait until one of you guys leaves the country so you can finally declare your love at the airport or some big, stupid gesture like that. Just do it now, in his stuffy frat room and get it over with.” Before you’re able to reply, he gives you a mock salute and retreats into the kitchen. You huff, surprised at the audacity of his words, and turn around to finally go up the stairs and towards Jisung’s room.

You take in a few deep breaths before knocking on his door, trying to steady yourself. Then, you wait - but after a few seconds have passed and the door has not yet been opened, you simply turn the doorknob and let yourself in. Jisung sits at his desk, giant headphones covering his ears while he hums along to the music he’s listening to. Well, that explains why he didn’t hear you knocking. You quickly cross the room, and tap his shoulder. He screams, and whips around, almost ripping his headphones off in the process. You giggle at his shocked expression, dark eyes almost comically big in his face. “When did you arrive!?”, he almost yells, and you slide the headphones off his ears, brushing some of his hair back while doing so. His eyelids flutter for a few seconds, before he raises one eyebrow. “You don’t look that shitty, which is surprising considering the amount of beer you drank last night.”, he says after looking you up and down, and you defensively cross your arms over your chest. “Wow, thanks. Always the charmer, huh?”, you huff in mock offense, and he grins up at you. “No need to charm when I know your heart is already mine.” You almost choke on your own spit, and beg the blush creeping on your cheeks to just not do that right now. Truly not the time nor place. “I came to thank you, actually. For last night - I heard you were the one to bring me home.”, you finally admit, nervously shifting from one foot to the other.

Jisung just stares at you for a few seconds, before giving you a soft smile. “Well, yeah. I couldn’t just let anyone take you home - and Amber was kinda busy, I heard.” You nod. “True, I’m glad you didn’t interrupt whatever she was doing. So, uh, yeah, thanks, you’re… a good friend, I guess.” Almost immediately, embarrassment washes over you, and you groan at your own words. Jisung’s lips begin to twitch. “A good friend, huh?”, he repeats and crosses both hands behind his head, still looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face. You blink a few times, before slowly beginning to nod. “Y-yeah…?” “For someone so smart, you’re really fucking oblivious sometimes, you know that?”, Jisung suddenly states, and you huff. “Excuse me?! Who do you call obliv-” But before you can tell him off, he pulls you onto his lap and then, his lips are on yours. You yelp, freezing for a few seconds, before basically melting against him. He hums appreciatively, and wraps both arms around you to pull you even closer towards him, deepening the kiss. You bury your hands in his soft hair, gently tugging on it, and he groans against your lips. You use the chance to slide your tongue into his mouth while his hands wander lower to grab your ass. You shift on top of him, and he moans when you brush against his crotch.

When you draw back to catch your breaths, you simply stare at each other, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. Then, Jisung begins to smile at you, and your heart flutters. Twenty years of seeing his smile, but you’ll apparently never get used to it. “About fucking time.”, he then murmurs against your lips, voice pleased, and you roll your eyes at him. “I’m not oblivious, by the way! You’re the oblivious one - I never give anyone free coffee, because it could literally cost me my job, and yet you always get a flat white on the house!”, you tell him, and he smirks. “Oh, baby, the oblivious one is definitely you - or do you really think I just happen to have a lecture every morning you got the early shift again?”, he replies, a smug expression on his face. You just stare at him. “You-”, but before you can say anything else, Jisung quickly presses his lips against yours again. You immediately lean into his embrace, and close your eyes, losing yourself to his touch - so familiar, yet also so new and exciting.

Yes, maybe you’ve truly always been in love with Han Jisung - but at least he seems to feel the exact same way.

[masterlist] | [requests]

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notanacousticsetcal · 3 years

Text

speak now - luke hemmings

summary - based off of the song speak now by taylor swift -- highly recommend listening before reading for the full experience.

warnings - none? nerves and kind of public speaking

word count - 1.6k - lyrics not included this time, lemme know if you guys prefer that

a/n - im SO sorry ive been MIA, i have had absolutely zero motivation. this is some trash i wrote a while ago and i thought i would post it while im trying to find inspiration to write something better. its the 5th installment of the song series so you can go check those out as well if you want! also, like i said in the word count, i did not include the lyrics this time around. i think i prefer that but im not sure, let me know if you guys want me to include the lyrics next time and i will! thank you for reading, i missed yall.

***

Your mom’s old pale yellow dress didn’t fit as well as you had hoped but you had no other options, formal events were not a common occurrence in your life. The wedges pinched at your toes and the thin dress straps dug into your shoulders but the soft yellow complimented your skin and you liked the ribbon around the waist so it wasn’t a total loss.

You sucked in a sharp breath, adjusting the dress once more in the mirror before grabbing your purse and hustling out the door.

This wasn’t happening. You weren’t actually doing this. The girl who feels like she has to throw up before public speaking and stutters over small talk and avoids eye contact at all costs is supposed to stand up in front of 100 people and declare her love for the boy getting married to someone else? You felt nauseous thinking about it.

But you couldn’t sit idly by and watch the love of your life say “I do,” to the snobby girl that put gum in your hair in middle school. If there was ever a time that you would stand in front of a crowd voluntarily and speak, it would be now.

The venue was beautiful. The church had vaulted ceilings and large stained glass windows that cast colorful shadows on the hardwood flooring. There were cascading white curtains and pale pink tablecloths with little white doilies. It was pretty but humble and you felt a pang of jealousy in your chest.

Concealing yourself in the crowd wasn’t difficult considering she’d invited the county and all its neighbors. Everyone was in the pews standing and mingling and you noticed the only group sitting quietly was the family of the bride herself, all looking around carefully like the normal folk were unevolved cavemen. They wore coordinating lavender outfits with done up hair and hats with little feathers -- something straight out of a period piece.

You rolled your eyes at their judgmental nature and apparent superiority complex before your attention was drawn to the boys in the front row talking seriously among themselves, dread written clearly on their faces.

Calum, Ashton and Michael wore similar black tuxes, looking uncomfortable in the formal getup. You only watched for a few moments before you caught Ashton’s attention. He first looked shocked but his expression quickly became sincere. He gave you an apologetic smile which you returned before heading to the back to avoid any more curious eyes. His family would surely recognize you if they saw you and you didn’t want any extra attention on you until you were subjecting yourself to it.

As you waited for the ceremony to start, you stared fondly out the window at the snowy trees and calm serenity of nature before allowing yourself to be whisked away in a vivid daydream about what it might be like to tell him how you truly feel.

You jumped, pulled from your daydream by dark, heavy chords coming from the church organ. You cringed a little as the horribly ill fitting song continued, but readied yourself for the ceremony to begin.

The silk purple curtains concealed your figure enough in the back of the church and your heart rate began to rise. This was happening. You were about to profess your love to a man who might turn you down in front of everyone and their mother. But it would be worth it. You couldn’t live your whole life wondering “what if?”

You heard a squeak of door hinges from your right and held still. Any sudden movements might give you away.

A young girl came running through with a wicker basket in hand, poorly distributing rose petals along the aisle. Something caught your eye in the front of the room.

Luke stepped out, front and center, and straightened his tie. Your breath caught in your throat. He looked just the same as the last time you’d seen him on that warm summer night. You had expected some drastic change, to not even recognize him. But it was Luke. The same one that picked flowers with you at recess and stopped to wait for you whenever you needed to tie your shoe. The same one that was always there to dry your tears and to watch dumb romantic comedies with you without complaining. He stood there quietly, clean shaven and rosy cheeked, the same Luke you knew and loved.

You pushed away the more upsetting memories, like the one from that warm, sticky night. The image of his tear stained cheeks and pleading eyes.

Moments later, your eyes were pulled from Luke. Courtney came strutting through the open Mahogany doors, waving like she was fucking Queen Elizabeth.

You rolled your eyes at her bedazzled ball gown and fake pageant smile. She didn’t care about Luke, she cared about image and reputation. Which is why you were really about to piss her off.

You looked back towards Luke and tried to read his expression but it was stoic, unmoved. You wish that was me, don’t you?

Courtney reached Luke and shot him a wide smile, to which he returned. Except Luke's was empty, not sincere. Luke had always thought Courtney was beautiful and smart and made the decision from there that marrying her wouldn’t be so bad. After you had turned him down in the glow of the firelight on that July night. It broke him and you hated yourself every day because of it. You weren’t ready to love him then. But you were most certainly ready now.

Ready to risk everything for that blue eyed boy.

The ceremony progressed and the preacher neared the end of the formalities. You felt your time was nearing. Your knees were weak and knocky, your hands shaking.

The preacher paused, and with his booming voice said “if anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.” He looked down, preparing to move on and read the next portion, assuming no one would protest. No sane person ever protested.

Your breath hitched in your throat. It was now or never. If you didn’t find it in you to step forward at this moment, the person you love most in this world might be gone forever.

The room fell silent and you closed your eyes, pushing the sheer curtain aside and taking a shaky step forward. You heard heads turn and a few audible gasps.

When you opened your eyes, everyone had turned to you. Every familiar face, every friend, every stranger.

You caught Courtney’s eye and she looked as if every fiber of her being was on fire. If someone reached out and touched her in that moment, they’d get a 3rd degree burn. She looked like she was trying to strangle you with her eyes.

You flattened your dress once more and looked up, bracing yourself for the look on Luke’s face.

He didn’t look angry or upset, just… confused. And surprised.

You took that as a sign to continue. You softly cleared your throat, speaking directly to the man in front of you. “I am not the kind of girl who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion but you are not the kind of boy… who should be marrying the wrong girl.” There were some shocked whispers and appalled gasps but you ignored them.

You walked forward down the aisle to get a clearer look at Luke and stopped at the stairs. You felt like you were alone with him now and it made it easier. “So don’t say yes, let’s run away now. I’ll meet you when you’re out of the church at the back door. Don’t wait or say a single vow, you need to hear me out.” You looked at him with pleading eyes and for the first time, his facade fell. You saw the glint of relief in his eyes and the slump of his once tense shoulders.

Luke looked around once more at all of the people that had gathered there today for him and knew he needed to make a decision. He turned to look at his friends stationed behind him, and to no surprise, their faces were lit up with pure happiness and relief. He couldn’t help but smile back at them. Calum threw him a thumbs up and Michael mouthed “go with her, dumbass.”

Luke turned back to the audience and spotted his mother in the crowd. He tried to read her expression but when she gave him a soft, curt nod, he knew what he had to do.

He quickly grabbed Courtney’s hands and your face immediately fell. He was going to choose her after all.

Then, he whispered something you didn’t expect. “I'm sorry, Court. This is a mistake, you don’t love me and I don’t love you — you and I both know that. We can’t do this. I have to go.” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek quickly as she stood, frozen.

You felt a pang of guilt. But then you remembered that she would get over it and be marrying someone filthy rich by the time she was 25 and didn’t feel so bad anymore.

Luke then turned back to you. He jogged down the steps and pulled you into a hug. It was so silent in the church now, you could hear a pin drop.

He grabbed your shoulders and kissed your forehead. “Let’s run away now, I’ll meet you when I’m out of my tux at the back door.”

You nodded, tears in your eyes, and ran towards the double doors of the church. This was the best decision you had ever made.

You stood in the crisp, chilly air, waiting for Luke to come out of the door on the side of the church. Snow fell on your hair and eyelashes and you reached out a hand to catch some flakes.

In only three minutes he’d managed to change back into his black skinny jeans, looking like himself again. You could’ve cried at the sight.

“Hi,” you said. What else do you say to someone when you just got them to call off a marriage at the alter?

His smile grew and he ran forward, nearly tackling you in a giant hug. His hands found the back of your head and his eyes searched your face, memorizing every feature, worried that at any second, he might wake up from this amazing dream. “So glad you were around when they said speak now.”

taglist (dm or ask to be added!): @theshyspy

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aspenflower17 · 3 years

Text

Finding You (Part Thirteen of ??)

Hewwo! It’s another update, coming at you kinda late but on a Sunday nonetheless! I hope everyone had a good holiday season, and that these last couple days of 2020 are being nice. I’m calmly greeting the new year and hoping it doesn’t get flustered 🙄

Anywho, if you’re new here, here’s a link to Part One for you, if you so choose to read it!

Tags because they’re great (both the tags and the people!): @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling @oofthelazyweeb (If you want to be put in the tags, let me know in a comment or dm me!)

Satan/ F!Mc

Word Count: 2,366

Trigger Warnings: Light... bullying? Maybe...

“Ah, there you are Satan,” Lucifer said when he walked into the room.

“Found him flirting,” Asmo giggled, walking in behind him, “I’m sure you can guess with who.”

“Ugh. Normies,” Levi huffed from behind his gaming console.

“You work fast,” Belphie smirked, a glint of mischief in his purple eyes.

“I… Just heard music, and followed it,” Satan sighed.

“Oh yes, because so many people in this castle play music,” Asmo teased, “You knew exactly what you were doing.”

“I… Let’s just go eat.”

“Hehe, you basically just admitted you were looking for her!” Asmo practically sang.

“Asmodeus. Now is not the time or place for this. We are in mixed company and we are late for dinner. Please refrain from other comments,” Lucifer scolded.

“Psh. You’re no fun tonight,” Asmo pouted, though he went quiet after that.

Satan watched Lucifer as they made their way to the dining hall. He knew Lucifer wasn’t looking forward to being forced to spend time with Michael, but there seemed to be another level to his annoyance. Actually, thinking about it, this new attitude started after the ball. What’s got him so upset?

His thoughts were cut short by Barbatos’ sudden appearance, “If you’ll follow me this way.”

“Ah, Barbatos. I do apologize. We had a… disappearance,” Lucifer shot Satan a glare, to which Satan responded with an eye roll.

“It is quite alright. M… Jane explained everything to us. Lord Diavolo is very excited to hear he helped her finish her composition, and is looking forward to them performing it for us tonight,” he said this with a look at Satan that left no room for argument.

“As long as… Jane is alright with it.”

Barbatos smiled and nodded his head, “Glad to hear,” then to Lucifer, “His Lord is very happy you are all here. We have quite a feast prepared tonight, including…” Barbatos turned and started walking, the brothers all following. Satan stopped listening, instead, focusing on the square envelope in his jacket pocket. He knew he’d have to wait until he was in the seclusion of his bedroom, but he really wanted to hear what she had to say. She had been friendly toward him earlier, so he desperately hoped her letter would be something positive. Even the small amounts of time he’d been able to spend with her had been the best he had had since she had left. He could feel himself loosening up, her presence a balm to his pain and anger. Though she was now an angel, one that didn’t remember their relationship, one that had grown up in the Celestial Realm, at her core she still had the same soul. The one he and all his brothers had fallen for. The one that had picked him last time. If there was any chance for him to win her back, he would use it and regain what he lost.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh, that reminds me of the time he started drunk texting everyone! It was during the first exchange program and he decided we needed to have a drinking contest. Remember that Lucifer? He ended up texting everyone close to him to tell them he loved them! I remember Simeon approaching me, wanting to make sure he was okay. The look on his face when I told him it was because Lucifer got drunk!” Diavolo and Michael started laughing, though they were the only ones.

The dinner had started off fine. Michael had seemed nervous, not saying anything for a good ten minutes besides greetings to the brothers. The brothers themselves were polite, though not friendly. They all worked towards letting Michael know that, talking to everyone but him. And why shouldn’t they? Their human was back, though not a human anymore. Even Levi had started talking to her when Diavolo had started his stories.

“Michael, did I ever tell you about the first time Lucifer came down to the Devildom?” Diavolo’s voice was loud and left everyone silent.

Levi, who was about to respond to something Mc had asked, sighed and leaned back in his chair pouting.

“I don’t believe you have.”

“Well, let me tell you about it. When I first saw Lucifer….” And Diavolo continued. Lucifer was trying very hard to act like he couldn’t hear Diavolo. The way he gripped his fork and his very stiff behavior gave him away. Someone would have to be deaf not to hear Diavolo, which was the point, “And then he left. Though I had said I wasn’t looking for friendship, I couldn’t help but be drawn to him. After he asked if we could speak again… Let’s just say, I was overjoyed. I never expected things to turn out the way they did from that first meeting, but I’m glad they did.”

“I remember him coming back up to the Celestial Realm. I was in the room while he gave our Father his report. He did mention the bad soil, and that he thought your very good manners and hospitality were all an act. He did mention how he did think we should consider your olive branch if you will. I will admit, I thought the whole idea preposterous the first time I heard it, but seeing as how I’m here now, it seems it’s not as crazy as it sounds.”

“I appreciate that Michael,” Diavolo smiled. To anyone looking closely, there was almost a ghost of a smile on Lucifer’s face. Then Diavolo gasped, his eyes shining, “Oh, I totally forgot about the time Lucifer got a cake to the face!” Lucifer abruptly stiffened again, more rigid than he had been before, the red of his eyes seeming to alight.

The conversation devolved from there, the two sharing stories back and forth. Lucifer had broken his fork by holding it too tightly, though he didn’t seem to have registered what he’d done. The glow of his power and displeasure were starting to swirl around his being. Barbatos had left the room to get him another one and was yet to return. Everyone else in the room was slowly inching away from the Avatar of Pride.

“That reminds me of when he-”

“Lucifer!”

All eyes turned toward Mc who had been sitting next to him the whole time but who now seemed intent on speaking to him. Michael, who had been cut off, looked at her in confusion. As Lucifer’s eyes landed on her she visibly shivered, but continued, “I hear you play piano, and are very accomplished at that.”

“Yes, I do.” The answer was curt and so cold it was almost frozen.

“Oh Mc, you should hear him play! He started playing in the Celestial Realm, and I’ve never heard anyone before or since that-”

“That’s great Michael,” Mc answered, cutting him off for a second time, “When I play for you all tonight, would you be willing to make any notes on what I can improve on? It’s been so long since I’ve met someone who could actually give me an honest opinion and real constructive criticism, I would definitely regret it if I didn’t ask you,” she then looked at him with such veneration, Satan instantly felt jealous. Did he not tell her he had worked really hard to get as good at Lucifer? If she wanted pointers, she should just ask him.

Lucifer blinked a couple of times before answering, most of the anger gone from his voice, “If you would like.”

“Really? Oh, I would appreciate that so much! Oh, I can barely wait now!”

Could she be…

“I’ve eaten my fill if you would like some direction now…”

“I’ve eaten enough as well. Would that be alright, Lord Diavolo?”

“That should be fine. In fact, if no one has any objections, how about we all adjourn to the music room. I am very curious to hear the song you’ve been working on.”

Beel looked down at his plate with disappointment, though he quickly shoved the food in his mouth, but no one else had any objections, so they all started to make their way to the music room. Lucifer had latched onto Mc’s arm, talking quietly with her. Satan glared at his back, though he was glad Mc had saved him from Michael and Diavolo so tactfully. She had been able to save his pride and even stoak it a little, ensuring the situation diffused.

“She’s really good at this,” Asmo whispered in Satan’s ear.

“Of course she is,” Satan answered more curtly than he meant to.

“Awww, is someone jealous?” Asmo teased.

“How could I not be?”

“I guess. He’s not the one she’s going to be performing with though,” Asmo answered, before rushing forward to talk to Luke.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Satan sat next to Mc at the piano bench, needing to wait until his part. Though he tried not to, his eyes kept wandering to her face, so expressive as she played. He almost missed his entrance, though the pause was a bit more dramatic that way. They performed as well as they had earlier, possibly better since they’d already played it once before, though it didn’t feel as intimate as it had before. He could only assume it was because they now had a crowd. Well, that and the fact Lucifer was hovering now. When they finished, everyone clapped, Mammon actually whistling.

“I can tell the ending was composed earlier today,” Lucifer began before the clapping had subsided, “It was much less polished than the rest of the piece. I also noticed Satan almost missed his cue...-”

“Would it be better if I were to play some of my other pieces?” Mc cut in. Lucifer had been looking at Satan, about to say something more, “I know it’s good to have feedback when you haven’t nearly perfected a piece, but since I’m looking for the feedback… Oh, I do need a ” She gestured a bit helplessly.

“Very well. Let’s do that then.”

Satan exited the bench, Mc moving to the middle again. Lucifer remained where was at which annoyed Satan. He wasn’t sure if she had intervened in Lucifer’s little rant on purpose, but he was grateful for it. He wasn’t really used to being the brother that was chewed out in public, and he knew he was rusty, but he hadn’t come to the dinner tonight expecting to play for everyone. Not that he couldn’t have handled it had it happened.

The familiar sounds of Bach’s Prelude No. 1 in C Major began, though a bit slower than Satan was used to. He wasn’t surprised Mc knew the song. It was the type of music that would be played in the Celestial Realm. It was a beautiful song, though he would’ve preferred one of her own compositions. He was also a bit confused as to why she was playing it slower than one usually would.

When she was done, Lucifer said the one thing he’d been thinking, “That wasn’t the right tempo.”

“I apologize about that,” Mc blushed, “I’m still getting used to this instrument.” She was getting used to…

Lucifer had the decency to look chagrined, “I apologize I should’ve realized.”

“Oh, it’s alright. I did ask for pointers. I’ve been practicing for a bit now, so I hope it sounds alright.”

“I did notice…” Lucifer launched into a whole rant, Mc paying attention the whole time, even asking for pointers when she didn’t fully understand what he meant. Having made himself feel better by having his ego stroked a bit and by bossing someone around, Lucifer sat down simply listening to her play.

There were some more classics by human composers and some of her own creation. Each one was absolutely beautiful and Satan found himself more and more impressed by just how accomplished she was. She had said he had influenced her a great deal when she was young, but what he saw was not just a child being impressionable. It was the zeal of someone who clearly enjoyed learning and wanted to better themselves. All too soon she asked for a reprieve, having played for a half-hour at least.

“Satan, why don’cha play us somethin’?” Mammon asked, turning towards him.

“Huh?”

“Yeah. It’s been a while since you’ve sat down and played something,” Asmo added, winking at him.

“I don’t even know what I’d play.”

“What about ‘Read My Heart’? I like that one,” Beel suggested, smiling over at him.

“That song’s for…” Satan trailed off.

“Exactly. Now, get your butt up there and play it,” Belphie sighed.

Satan approached the instrument slowly. The whole thing had started as a dare. Before Mc had officially chosen him, there had been a lot of back and forth between the brothers over who Mc’s favorite was. An idea that had been put forward was for each of them to write Mc a song. Satan knew his brothers were throwing their all into the song to make it as amazing as they could, Asmo actually bringing in a team to help him with his song, so he had thrown his all in as well, though he went with one instrument that he played himself to make sure it was as authentic as possible, putting every feeling he had for her into the song. His worry about her mortality, which had been well-founded. All the new feelings of love. Contentment. Acceptance. Belonging. Everything. He had been extremely satisfied with the results, though, just like most of their earlier “contests” it didn’t really decide anything.

He had never expected to play this song ever again. Mc had died. What was the point of ever playing it again? He’d written it for her anyway. But… she was back, and she was sitting right there. She had also never heard the song he’d written for her. She’d cried last time she heard it. Would she feel the same way this time?

His hands played the familiar keys, the notes ringing out just the way he remembered. He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to get the first line out, he became so overwhelmed with emotion. He did though, his voice strong. He hoped the lyrics would reach her. Would help her come back to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part Fourteen

#obey me!#OBEY ME #obey me! swd #obey me swd #obey me satan #obey me satan x mc #obey me satan/mc #obey me mc #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me michael #obey me fic #aspenflower17 #my writing

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chaseatinydream · 3 years

Text

pirate king (51) || atz

You don’t know what to do anymore.

Everything is falling apart to pieces, the world around you, the people at your side, you yourself, crumbling into ruins. Yunho is suffering from poison, having been stabbed in the side by his dearly beloved brother himself, who is cooperating with Commander Kang, Vice-Commander of the Royal Navy’s Red Rose fleet.

He also happens to be Yeosang’s estranged father and the man with the antidote to Yunho’s poison. He wants your captain to give up his magical knot, the nautical maps, you, and Yeosang in exchange for pardons for the whole crew… and Yunho’s antidote.

Wooyoung is avoiding you like you’re down with the plague, refusing to look you in the eye and cutting short all your feeble attempts at conversation with curt, uninterested replies. He’s become like some sort of wraith, gone more times than he is present, and the immense loneliness that clenches deep in you doesn’t help at all with the pains that have started to emerge in your chest.

You’re terrified. Terrified about exactly what exactly is happening to you.

And then the Kraken…

The Kraken is dead.

Jongho had reported the incident to your captain the moment the four of you had returned to the vessel, him being more worried about the Royal Navy ship present in the waters as compared to the death of the Kraken, but you had barely reacted to his worried questions, unable to comprehend what you had just seen.

The ancient Kraken is… dead.

You sit against the mast in empty silence, watching the stars blankly as the ship sails beneath them on a sea reflecting the galaxies in the night sky, lost in the majestic wonder of the sight and in your thoughts. Tonight, the air is freezing, and instinctively your hand reaches out next to you, seeking for the usual warmth that is always present by your side.

Then your fingers falter, halting hesitantly in mid air when they find nothing but cold, empty space.

Despair wells up in you and your hand falls back to your side, limp. Your head falls forwards as you try to hold back the sudden, warm tears that threaten to slip from your eyes. It hurts, deep in your chest, as real and raw as the sporadic pains you’ve been experiencing since leaving the Grand Iguana, and perhaps if you’re honest with yourself, even more so.

When you close your eyes and wish hard enough, with all of your might, you can see Wooyoung’s content smile as he lounges on the deck next to you, eyes fixated on the stars overhead. Wish a little more and you can feel the comforting weight of his head resting on your shoulder, the warmth of your intertwined hands in the lining of his pocket. Even if it was all a lie, even if he had never really cared about you, even if you were nothing more than a game to him, you just want to stay in that single moment forever, trapped in your knitted cocoon of comforting lies.

But you don’t have time to be worrying about those things, you think as you aggressively wipe the tears from your eyes. Because there are so many more problems that you need to focus on, bigger ones that are looming over you in spite of your own troubles.

Yunho is still dying.

And San doesn’t have a cure.

“I don’t know how to create the antidote.”

You don’t know what you should do, to be honest. There are all manner of emotions rushing through you right now – fear – despair – hopelessness – anger; directed at yourself or someone else, you don’t know, but all that matters is that Yunho is dying.

And that neither you nor San can do anything to stop it.

Slumping against the mast once more, you let out another exhausted sigh. You’re tired, completely worn out, battered from the constant strain and worries on your mind. All you want to do is lie down and sleep, but you can’t bring yourself to go to bed in front of your master, who is still burning midnight oil night after night as he and Yeosang search fruitlessly for an antidote.

You can’t bear to see the haggard, gaunt expression on his face as he rifles through the same books yet again, knowing full well in his heart that they don’t have the answers he needs, that only powerful magic could hope to have any sort of effect on the poison. You can’t continue to hear your master sob quietly to himself every night from under your covers as his worry for Yunho and the sheer weight of his failure takes its toll on him, the candlelight flickering across his face only making the tear tracks on his cheeks all the more pronounced.

And in the morning, when he wears a bright, falsely cheerful grin, telling you that everything will be alright, guilt eats away at you like a starving man when you know that he is the one who needs your comfort instead.

You bury your head in your hands with a soundless scream. Your sanity feels like it’s ripping apart at the seams, unraveling and crumbling to ash. There are too many worries and burdens stifling you from within, choking you like poisonous ivies, the thorns digging into your lungs and suffocating you of the air that you so desperately need. You want to spill everything in your chest to someone else, to relieve the burden from your shoulders, but who would be able to lend you a listening ear at this time of the night?

You glance about the deck instinctively. All your crewmates are sleeping below decks, San and Yeosang are tirelessly researching into the night for a cure, Wooyoung still won’t speak to you, and your captain… he…

Actually, why don’t you speak to your captain?

Leaping to your feet, you nearly trip over empty air in your haste as you scramble to the captain’s cabin. To your immense relief, you can see the faint flicker of candlelight coming through the glass windows, signifying that your captain is not yet asleep. You raise a trembling hand, and after a moment of hesitation, rap on the heavy wooden door with your knuckles.

Knock, knock, knock.

You’re left hanging for a moment when there’s a brief moment of silence, but before your hand can fall to the side in disappointment, a soft, raspy voice comes from behind the closed door.

“Come in.”

Relief floods through you and you pull open the door, stepping into the dimly lit interior of your captain’s cabin. Knowing that he usually sleeps in the hammock in the corner, your eyes flit there at first glance, but you’re surprised to find it empty. Instead, you finally see him at the glass window overlooking the sea, lounging on a chair there as he stares unblinkingly at the scene outside. He’s in a state of casual undress, signature red jacket slung over his shoulder and the top two buttons of his shirt undone, sleeves rolled up to the elbows as his fingers dance absentmindedly on a sheaf of thick parchment paper on his lap.

Then the smell of alcohol hits you like a punch to the gut.

In his other hand is a bottle of liquor, and from the pungent scent it’s a strong, powerful one. For a moment, you’re actually worried; is your captain too unable to cope with the pain and fear of losing his friend? Taking a hesitant step forward, you call out to your captain softly.

“Captain? Are you alright?”

If Hongjoong is surprised that you’ve come to search for him in the wee hours of morning, he doesn’t show it, subtly sliding the bottle of alcohol behind a curtain before he begins to tidy the papers on his lap as if he hasn’t heard your question in the least. When he’s satisfied with the state they’re in, he finally turns to glance at you.

“Ahh, Chin Hae, what do you need from me?”

Your breath catches in your throat.

Because your captain, Kim Hongjoong, is not wearing his eyepatch.

You’ve never actually thought about what was under that slip of black cloth. As the eyepatch has just… always been there, in some way you’ve forgotten that beneath your captain’s eyepatch, there are the scars of your captain’s childhood. You remember that your captain had told you once how his father had abandoned him on an island and shot him in the head, causing him to lose his eye in what must have surely been a traumatic accident for any child.

But the alcohol must have addled with your captain’s mind a lot more than you’d thought, because he doesn’t seem to be aware of the fact that he’s not wearing his eyepatch, instead cocking his head curiously to the side as he awaits for your response.

Your own eyes trace his face, lingering on his right eye as much as you try to tear your gaze away in polite courtesy. The eyepatch is such a big part of his wardrobe, even more significant than his red jacket itself, that you feel like he’s bared a part of himself to you without intending to.

You’re not going to lie. The scar is ugly, shallow ridges of scar tissue joining his skin of to his cheek, slightly fainter in colour than the smooth, unblemished skin around it. It mars what you would have almost called a flawless face, an unsightly stain upon what was once a perfect, white canvas.

You can almost imagine the sight happening before your eyes. Your captain as a young, innocent child, still with both soft green eyes and not yet exposed to the horrors of the world, scrambling backwards desperately in the sand, terror sending his body into sheer mind numbing panic as the one person who was supposed to protect him raises a musket to his head.

And it’s the last thing he’ll ever see out of that eye.

Your captain’s other eye, the healthy, working one, is a hazy green, dulled by the alcohol and pain. It takes him more than a second to realise what you’re looking at, his mind fogged over with liquor, but when he does, you’re terrified, yanking your eyes back to the ground as you can.

But it’s already too late.

“Get out!” Hongjoong roars, every syllable trembling with rage, rising to his feet in one explosive action. The papers on his lap slide to the ground and scatter everywhere, but they’re the least of your troubles right now. At the moment, you’re a lot more concerned about how your captain is practically looming over you, handsome face twisted in fury, warm breath hitting your cheeks. Your eyes are drawn back to his eye once more, almost instinctively, and Hongjoong clamps one hand over the scar, so hard that his fingers turn white, turning away from you so you can’t see it any longer, shoulders wound tight with tension.

Your heart breaks.

“Captain-”

“I said, get out.” He seethes, making to move across the room to his table, where his eyepatch lies. But the alcohol must have affected him a lot more than you thought, because he only manages five steps before his knees give out beneath him and he crumples to ground in a limp heap with a cry of pain. A yelp of horror leaves your mouth and you rush to help him, but he merely waves you off, one hand still pressed tight over his eye.

The message is clear. He doesn’t want you seeing his eye.

“Get me my eyepatch.” Hongjoong manages through gritted teeth and you scramble to obey, feeling the rough cloth beneath your fingers as you pluck it from the tabletop. Your captain practically snatches it from your hands when you return with it, yanking it over his eye as fast as he can.

The two of you remain there for a moment, your captain trying to get his breathing under control as you merely stay still before him, afraid to move. You can smell the alcohol on his breath, and it’s only now that you notice his sallow cheeks, the old rum stains on his shirt. He’s been drowning all his fears and sorrows in liquor, and your heart only shatters more when you recall the brave front he’s been putting on in front of you and all the crew.

“I’m… I apologise.” Hongjoong finally rasps and your eyes dart to his face. His fingers still linger at his eyepatch, as if subconsciously trying to hide his scarred eye, his expression almost unreadable, forlorn, defeated. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that. You should go.”

Part of you does want to leave, terrified of what might happen if you stay here any longer. But even more than that, you’re worried about your captain. He’s clearly completely drunk on both alcohol and his emotions, and you can’t just leave him on the floor like that. So, mustering your courage, you put an arm around him and yank him to his feet, ignoring the throbbing pain in your chest when you do so, pulling him to Yeosang’s bed.

All the fight has clearly evaporated from your captain, because he merely goes along with what you’re trying to do, a complete turn from earlier when he’d been shouting at you to leave, albeit on unsteady feet. When Hongjoong reaches the bed, he simply topples over onto the mattress with a soft groan, eye shut as you sit next to him on the edge of the bed, a hundred and one questions running through your mind with nowhere to begin.

“Why?” You manage to whisper, the question soft to even your own ears. Exhaustion and alcohol must have loosened your captain’s tongue, because he actually answers you, voice so forlorn it almost brings tears to your eyes.

“I…I couldn’t help it... I felt like such a useless captain.” Hongjoong breathes into the silent room, voice laced with pain and depression and guilt. “Yunho got stabbed because I was too slow. Yeosang and you are wanted because I failed to protect the two of you. Now, we have no cure to save Yunho, but I… I just can’t give either of you up to that bastard. I don’t want to make a choice, so I’m trying to forget, but it just isn’t working.”

Everyone on board of this ship, Yeosang himself included, have reassured you that your captain would never give any of you up, but to hear it for yourself, with your own two ears, means so much more to you. Some sort of relief settles in you, but it doesn’t last long.

Your captain lets out a self deprecating chuckle. “I’m such a selfish man, aren’t I?”

You don’t know what your captain is talking about. What does he mean that he’s selfish? Kim Hongjoong is one of the most kind hearted people you’ve met, willing to go to any extent for his friends and crew, you included. But when you open your mouth to refute, your captain speaks once more, voice slurring ever so slightly over his words.

“Hey, Chin Hae... I’m terrified.”

The pained whimper that breaks forth from him is the final blow to your heart as you feel it shatter into teeny tiny pieces. You have this urge to comfort him, to reassure him in any way that he’ll be alright, but then Hongjoong is sitting up on the bed once more, green eye clouded with desperation as he grabs you tight by the shoulders.

“You can’t die, Chin Hae.” Hongjoong’s voice is shaking with some sort of deep rooted fear as his gaze searches yours. “Please… no, that’s an order. I order you not to die, Chin Hae. I… no… I won’t be able to bear it if any of you die so please…” His voice breaks at the last word and a single tear rolls down your cheek at the sheer anguish in his words. “Please… please don’t die.”

He’s begging you.

“I’ll take all the danger, all the pain, everything. Please, don’t do anything dangerous.” He continues rambling weakly, head bowed before you in supplication as he pleads with you. He’s drunk. Too much so, you think blankly, your heart ripping itself to shreds at his words. “Getting tortured… even dying would be a better fate than losing any of you, so please…”

You’re frozen, unable to move an inch at the sheer wretchedness of his pleas. Your captain, your stupid, foolish and utterly selfless captain, doesn’t care for anything else except the safety of his crew. Your captain, who is always a pillar of support to all of you, perhaps doesn’t realise that he too, needs comfort as well.

Hongjoong is still mumbling ‘please’ brokenly under his breath, tears actually streaming down his cheeks as he begs you to stay alive and safe. You don’t know what to do, one hand coming up to grip the fabric above your chest, right where your heart is.

How? How are you ever going to tell Hongjoong about how your life might just be ending soon?

At this point, you don’t even know how to worry about yourself. Instead, you’re more concerned about what will happen to your captain if you do die, because how can you bring yourself to worry about you when your captain cares for your life more than his own?

The answer is simple, really.

You can’t.

This isn’t like that time from so long ago, when the biggest secrets you’d been keeping from the crew was the fact that you were a woman. Your captain is already tearing himself apart from the inside over all the problems he has to face now, what would happen to him if you told him you were dying and there was likely no way he could fix it?

He’d go insane.

So, as you hold back the tears that are desperately trying to escape your eyes, you pull him close in a hug and he clings to you, as if he’s drowning and you’re a lifeline. You press your nose into his shoulder and pat him, rubbing soothing circles into his back much like San used to do for you.

“I won’t die.” You lie through your teeth, and your heart clenches painfully, seemingly aware of your fibs. But Hongjoong nods desperately, trembling uncontrollably against you, your legs tangled in the blankets.

“You promise?” His voice is so weak, so afraid, that the tears spill over your lashes and onto your cheeks, soaking into his shoulder. You attempt a reassuring smile, but even to you, it’s forced and brittle, like flaking clay that has been left out in the sun too long.

Your reply is nothing but a sweet lie, one that you know you cannot possibly keep.

“I promise.”

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez pirate king #w; ot8 #w; pirate king #w; fanfiction

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Omertà👄13

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (intercourse); tags to be added throughout series

This is dark!Bucky and dark! Loki and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father was a bookie and taught you everything you know about numbers. After his death, you were taken on as a bookkeeper for Loki Laufeyson, resident crime boss in Manhattan. But can you keep your place in the background when a man from Brooklyn threatens to drag you to the forefront?

Note: Alright, I cranked it out. Here ya go!

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Steve got you back to the casino in one piece but you weren’t foolish enough to think it was because of your pathetic play with the pen. You suspected his behaviour hadn’t entirely been spontaneous. His boss surely had something to do with it though how, you couldn’t guess.

You waited in the office on the second floor for the delivery of the carelessly selected furniture. After the scene against the desk, you were less than interested in your actual purpose in the store. Your selection had been impulsive and rushed.

You helped the men as they set up the large wooden desk and the purple suede chair you tacked onto the purchase. There was also a set of simple arm chairs that you placed opposite each other around the low table preserved from the casino’s skeleton and the jade paperweight better used as a bludgeon.

You like the carved curlicues along the sides of the table and really didn’t mind the overall effect. It was much better than your former school-girlish set up in the antique shop. In fact, a third room had been cleared out to provide your own space though you noted that Bucky’s own separated you from Loki. A deliberate and heavy-handed move.

You locked your ledger in the second drawer as your irritated boss appeared and sneered at the mismatched set-up. You were thankful that he arrived alone. Though you suspected he did not feel the same. He crossed his arms as he refused to cross the threshold.

“It’s late,” He hissed.

You looked at him. He didn’t need to say anything else. His faced was drawn in a sharp scowl and his green eyes burned as they skittered around impatiently. You grabbed your bag and rounded the desk to meet him at the door.

“Thor?” You asked.

“Late. Still.” He turned and strode down the hallway, barely concerned about your presence as he did. “As always. I’m hardly surprised and yet I am entirely annoyed.”

You grumbled and followed him down the wide staircase to the foyer. The men continued their work, the hammering and drilling, as you passed. Outside, the air was cool and you could smell the water as its mist wafted over the boardwalk not far from the casino.

Silent, you dropped into the passenger seat of Loki’s car and he cleared his throat as he swung his long legs under the steering wheel. He shifted in the seat and shoved the keys in the ignition. His fingers tapped on the leather wheel before he turned the engine and roared away from the curb.

“Your little shopping spree,” He snarled. “How did that go?”

“It… went,” You sighed and leaned against the door. “I don’t dare ask about your own day.”

His knuckles whitened as he gripped the wheel even tighter and ignored a red light. He hissed as he kept his fiery gaze on the road ahead.

“That… imbecile…” He muttered. “And his damn one percent!”

You were quiet as you stared at the dashboard. You adjusted your bag in your lap and tangled your arm in the strap. You could smirk and say I told you so but that would do you no favour.

“I say one thing, he wants the other,” Loki continued. “As if I’m stupid enough not to realise it is all a joke to him. If I were to say the sky is blue, he’d declare it yellow. And--” Loki huffed and pulled a hand away from the wheel to smooth his hair. “You!”

Your eyes rounded in confusion as you peered over at him.

“I know he won’t leave you alone,” He growled. “He can’t leave my things alone. Like a child.”

You blinked and frowned. While his ire was mostly aimed at Bucky, you knew it would not be thrust upon him. You shook your head and turned back to the gaze out the windshield.

“And this business with the hotel rooms,” He carried on. “As if to keep us apart. To keep me from my toy.”

You hugged your bag tightly, growing irritated by his ranting. But his blatant disregard for you. The scabbed cut on your pelvis itched beneath your dress.

“Well, darling, he has only fed my appetite,” He smirked. “And I don’t care if the entire city should hear me sate it.”

“Christ,” You uttered as he pulled up to the front of the hotel.

As he did, a man in a dark blue jacket approached and stood in wait at the curb. Loki shot you a warning look as you opened your door. He neared the valet and handed him his keys with a curt order not to manhandle it and his room number.

You gave an apologetic smile to the employee and dug around in your bag. You fished out a fifty and offered it to him with a sorry before he could round the car.

You turned and found Loki with his arms crossed waiting by the hotel’s facade, the door held open by another man in a similar jacket. You hurried over, your heels loudly clicking across the walkway. He turned and preceded you as you struggled to keep up.

“I can pay my own way, darling,” He grumbled under his breath. “Speaking of.”

He held out his hand and you fished around for the black card. You slipped it into his palm as he swept over to the elevators and he quickly tucked it away. He hit the button and waited with his hand on his hip. He checked his phone and tutted under his breath.

“Fucking Thor,” He waved you forward as the doors slid open. “I swear.”

He got into the elevator with you and you watched his reflection in the doors as they closed. His eyes went to the ceiling as he roiled with anger and impatience. You didn’t see this turning out well. Your fears were confirmed as his gaze found your owned mirrored image and flared. His tongue poked out and the corner of his mouth curved.

He grabbed your elbow as the elevator dinged and he dragged you out with him. Your bag slipped down your other arm and you barely caught it before it hit the floor. You stumbled over your feet as he pulled out his room key and checked the number in the shiny folder.

He slipped the card out with two fingers and stopped before the suite at the end of the hallway. He flicked it along the slot and the light flashed a pale purple as the lock sounded. He pushed inward and as good as flung you inside. You caught yourself on the small table beneath the regal mirror, a doorway just beside it which led to a darkened bathroom.

The door closed with a decisive click and Loki brushed past you. You set your bag down and watched him pace the large suite as he removed his jacket. A kitchenette, a luscious living space, a polished dining set, and an immense sliding glass door led to the high balcony. Another doorway at the other end of the suite led to what you assumed was the bedroom.

Loki tugged at his tie as he neared the sofa and pulled out his phone once more. One hand worked at untangling his tie as the other typed out something on the screen. He dumped both on the table behind him and turned back to the cushions.

“Come on,” He pointed to the couch. “I’m not in the mood to argue.”

You hesitated before you walked across the marble floor and onto the rich rug. You stopped at the end of the sofa and shook your head.

“Why--”

“No. No.” He grabbed your upper arm and pulled you towards him. “This entire day has been one big argument, I’ll not have another. Especially with you, darling.”

He spun you to face the couch and shoved you harshly. Your knees hit the edge and you fell awkwardly onto the cushion. He pushed you down so that your chest was against the back of the sofa as his other hand hiked up your dress. You wriggled and reached back to slap him away. He caught your wrist and twisted cruelly.

“Must we continue like this?” He snarled. “My patience with you runs thinner and thinner, darling, and I become more inclined to…” He squeezed your wrist and bent your arm further up your back until you whined. “Really make you suffer.”

You whimpered and he kept a hold of your wrist.

“Now do you prefer I break your arm then fuck you, or just the latter?” He added more pressure and you cried out.

“Ah, stop, stop!” You pleaded. “Fuck, Loki! Stop! Okay, okay!”

He released you harshly and your arm shook as you drew it away. You shakily touched your skirt and drew it over your thigh. He ripped it up entirely to your waist and pushed you against the couch so that your arms were bent between you and the upholstery. Your arm still throbbed as the blood rushed back to your hand.

“Good girl,” He smacked your ass sharply and his long fingers crept beneath the elastic of your panties and tugged them down just as roughly.

He fumbled behind you and you heard the familiar metallic clink. You closed your eyes and hung your head. Maybe he would be quick. Ha, did it matter?

He stepped closer and you felt his smooth, swollen tip against your ass. He gripped your shoulder and bent you further. He guided himself down to your folds and rubbed along them. He growled and pushed into you without warning. You weren’t quite wet enough and it hurt. You bit into the heel of your hand as your other grasped the couch.

He rutted into you without pause. You grunted and gritted your teeth as you clung to the back of the sofa. He jerked your body with each thrust as his breaths grew heady. One hand kept hold of your shoulder as the other closed over your hip. His pelvis hit your ass with loud slaps and his groans sounded like bestial growls.

“Fuck,” He uttered as he sped up and dug his nails into your hip. “Come on, give me something.”

He slammed you back into him and you shuddered. You did your best to move your body in tandem with his. Your spine ached as he pounded into you harder and harder. You panted into the thick fabric of the sofa and clamped your lips shut as you held in the unbidden moans.

“Ah, shit. Darl--”

His voice died and he stopped suddenly, completely sheathed in you, as a knock came at the door. You lifted your head and he reluctantly slipped his hand from your shoulder. He pinched your ass as he pulled out of you. He took a breath and exhaled slowly.

“Fuck, must be our bags,” He stepped back and you carefully stood as he tucked his cock away and buckled his pants.

He found his jacket slung over a chair and pulled it on in an attempt to hide his unspent arousal. You pulled your panties up and straightened your skirt as you turned to sit on the sofa. You clasped your hands over your lap as you watched him near the door. He cursed again as he peered through the peephole.

He grabbed the handle and shook his head as he slowly opened it. You were just as uneasy as him to find Thor on the other side. The older brother wasted no time as he grinned and entered with a casual ‘hey’. He pushed past Loki as he looked around, his eyes falling on you as you tried to keep your cool.

“This is quite the room,” Thor mused as he came close. He turned back as he reached the couch and looked to his brother. “Everything you need, eh?”

He flopped onto the couch next to you and stretched his arm behind you.

“All the amenities,” He winked and his arm fell down onto your shoulders.

Loki squinted and sighed. He took the chair where his jacket had formerly resided and shifted awkwardly on the seat.

“You’re late.” Loki declared.

“Well, shit, I had a lot to do before I could just leave behind your business,” Thor retorted as he played with the sleeve of your dress. “You know, Heimdall flew all the way from London, all night, so you know, unlike you, I do allow my workers some degree of humanity. He took a nap before we could get all sorted.”

“A nap?” Loki rolled his eyes.

“You ever let your sweet bookkeeper sleep?” Thor asked as his arm hugged you. “I can’t say I would but…” He glanced over at you. “She looks tired, doesn’t she?”

You wriggled and tried to draw away. He was strong and you suspected his brother would do little to aid your escape. You glared at Loki and his lips thinned.

“Oh… oh, did I interrupt something?” Thor chuckled. “Well, don’t mind me, it’ll be like I’m not even here.”

“You’re repulsive,” Loki snorted. “I am certain you might acquire your own board for the night.”

“Front desk says they’re all booked up for the night.” Thor clung to you as his other large hand rested on his thigh and he rubbed his trousers with his finger tips. “So looks like we’ll be rooming together, brother, hmm? Just like when we were boys.”

“Hopefully not,” Loki sneered. “You will take her room, then.”

“Ah, no, I could not inconvenience the girl. I see you’ve already done so.” Thor insisted. “Beside, we do have much to discuss, wouldn’t you agree?”

Loki leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he steepled his fingers together and pressed his lips to them. His eyes bore into Thor and then flitted to you. He sat back and nodded.

“You’re right,” He said. “Darling, why don’t you go get settled in your rooms? I’ll send the porter with your bag when he arrives.”

You peeked over at Thor and slowly slid forward. You stood and his arm fell, his hand grazing your ass. You smoothed the front of your dress and cleared your throat.

“Alright.” Your legs felt unsteady as you swept to the entryway and scooped up your bag.

“It is business, brother,” Thor intoned. “Shouldn’t she stay?”

“We can go over numbers tomorrow,” Loki said. “And I would agree with you, she does look tired.” He looked over his shoulder and nodded. “Go on, darling. Enjoy your night. Alone.”

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ripley95 · 4 years

Text

Echoes of Old Embers

Chapter 6

Pairing: F!Shepard/Kaidan Alenko

Rating: T

Chapter length: 3.3K

Story Synopsis:

After surviving the war, one of Shepard’s biggest regrets was rejecting Kaidan at Apollo’s. Fate has a way of bringing Jane and Kaidan back into each other’s lives. A misunderstanding with his family makes Kaidan and Shepard relive old history and question where they stand.

Link to Chapter 1 on AO3

Chapter Synopsis:

Kaidan’s youngest sister catches Kaidan and Shepard in an awkward situation, deepening her misunderstanding of their relationship in a way that becomes hard to refute.

Link to Chapter 6 on AO3

Tumblr Links:

Read the chapter here below the cut:

Shepard began to open her eyes slowly, still in a hazy stupor that came with sleep. She was surprised to find that it was already dark outside, her last memory being from the afternoon. It felt like only minutes had passed, but it must have been hours. She didn’t even have a moment to wake up and make sense of what happened before a noise at the door shot a bolt of adrenaline throughout her entire body.

“Well, don’t you two look cozy?” Maisie said teasingly from the doorway of the Cabin.

Shepard sat up with a jolt, looking down at Kaidan, his eyes still closed, barely aware of what was going on. She had already gathered that they must have ended up falling asleep together as she comforted him, but she hadn’t realised that she was lying right on top of him until right now. She couldn’t even move, she was so baffled as to how she let this happen.

Shepard finally began to feel stirring underneath her as Kaidan was taking longer to wake to the noise than she had. He put a hand on her waist as though it was instinctual. That feeling when you’re in a relationship with someone and the first thing you want to do when you wake up is to seek out that warmth and comfort from them. He’d done it before during the brief time that they actually were together, when touches like that felt so natural. It was yet another thing she missed. He finally began to open his eyes, rubbing the sleep from them with his free hand, and started to look around. He met Shepard’s gaze, and he peeled his hand off of her waist just as instinctively as it had found her only seconds before. He finally looked towards the door to see his sister standing there, looking more thrilled than ever.

“Shit,” Kaidan muttered under his breath as he started to sit up straight.

Shepard agreed with the sentiment for plenty of reasons and moved off of him immediately to sit on her own separate side of the couch, not that it would help matters at this point. She was sure the damage was already done, both of them looking entirely guilty and suspicious.

“Not in a relationship, eh? Holding hands earlier, now catching you on the couch, cuddled up nice and close. Maybe you haven’t been in enough relationships to know what one looks like, but let me tell you, this looks like a relationship to me.” She said it entirely pleased with herself, arms crossed with a cocky confidence on her face.

Kaidan glared back at her, nowhere near as pleased with the accusation.

“I don’t hear you refuting it.”

He rubbed his forehead and let out a huff of air, annoyed by the circumstances. “Damn it, Maisie, you know this is supposed to be my private area.”

“Is that supposed to be you refuting it?” she said with an even bigger grin.

“It’s really not what you think,” Kaidan said, frustration lacing his words. “Besides, you know this area is mine. You shouldn’t be here anyway.”

“Yeah, well, you haven’t been here in years. I kind of took it as my hangout before the war started.”

“I guess that explains all the romance books in here now,” he said in his own teasing tone.

“Oh, shut up. Half of these are yours, and you know it.”

Kaidan let out the slightest snort of laughter, looking amused at the accusation and not denying it.

Shepard turned to him with a smile, entertained by the idea. She had to admit, ever since Kasumi got her into the genre, it had become a guilty pleasure. Maybe they’d have to trade favourites later.

“Oh my god, you guys are totally smitten,” Maisie said, noticing the look on Shepard’s face. “There’s no way you’re going to convince me that you’re not together now.”

Kaidan stared at his feet, letting out a sigh.

“Oh come on, is it really that bad that I figured this out? I already told you, if you’re keeping this a secret because of the regs, you should know that no one’s going to report you here,” Maisie said, earnestly.

Kaidan glared at her. It was clear that he had given up on trying to convince her otherwise. The evidence was stacked against them anyway thanks to their earlier antics and this mishap.

“All right. Be that way then,” Maisie said, unsatisfied with not getting an admission of guilt out of either of them, yet still pleased with herself for ‘figuring it out.’ “But anyway, I’m only here because you weren’t answering your omni-tool. Mom’s been trying to call you. She’s gotten your room ready,” she said, another grin forming on her face. “Though, I suspect neither of you will be needing much sleep tonight.”

“That’s enough, Maisie,” Kaidan said, not liking what she was implying.

“Fine. I’ll just leave you to it then,” she said with a wink before she finally left.

Kaidan let out a long frustrated sigh, resting his head on the back of the couch in defeat.

Shepard leaned forward, rubbing her forehead, upset with how bad of a mess they had gotten themselves into. She already felt like it was a mistake to hold his hand earlier, wondering how much she’d complicated their predicament, but now it seemed like any “relationship” between the two of them was practically undeniable. Not only that, but if she thought holding hands was an intimate gesture, what did that say about falling asleep on top of someone? She couldn’t help feeling like she crossed some kind of line. At least this didn’t happen on purpose. She knew that Kaidan would be understanding of it. That did nothing to help her inner thoughts of wishing she had woken up snuggled up next to him in a way that wasn’t an accident, though. Another regret to add on top of the growing pile since agreeing to come here. It was too easy to be drawn towards him when they were around each other. That didn’t exactly make it easy for her to maintain the romantic distance that she wanted to.

Kaidan finally stood up from the couch, and she took that as a signal to follow suit. They looked at each other somewhat awkwardly, before they both said, “I’m sorr-” at the same time.

They both let out an embarrassed laugh, the tension dissipating slightly.

“I’m not even sure what happened,” she said, genuinely confused at how easily they had fallen asleep and nuzzled up to each other.

Kaidan shook his head as a way to absolve her from any guilt. “Me neither, but uh… thank you, Jane.”

‘Jane.’ The last time he had ever called her that was at Apollo’s when he was asking if she wanted to try being in a relationship again. Ever since her rejection, it had been nothing but ‘Shepard.’ Perhaps she was reading too much into it. It was just her name after all, and this was a more personal setting than a warship. He was bound to be a little more relaxed here. There was no reason that it should have meant anything. The rational explanation behind it did nothing to stop her heart from fluttering at the idea.

“I think I really needed that,” he said, looking genuinely thankful. “And it means a lot that you stayed.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said with a curt nod. What she wanted to say was that she’d be there for him any time he needed it. That she’d hold his hand and wipe away his tears, and that he wouldn’t have to feel alone. Instead, she went for something genuine but stayed in appropriate territory. “Your dad sounds like he was an amazing man.”

“He was. I was lucky to have him,” Kaidan said before stepping out of the way of the door, and showing her out.

They walked silently in the dark towards the house, the air was noticeably more chill than it was earlier in the day. She figured Maisie was probably right. She didn’t think there would be much of any sleep to be had, though not for the reasons that Maisie had been insinuating. She anticipated a night full of tossing and turning, contemplating what it was like to wake up in Kaidan’s arms again after so long. His scent was still lingering in her nose, and she could still feel his warmth. He provided a sense of safety and comfort that she missed. She’d never regretted her rejection of him at Apollo’s more than she did right now, after having a taste of what she’d been missing out on this whole time.

“Hey, uh, before we get back to the house, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry with everything that’s happened with Maisie.”

Shepard looked over to him in disbelief. “Why are you the one apologising? You didn’t do anything wrong. I seem to remember being the one mistakenly thinking it would be funny to hold your hand earlier.”

“Well, I also went along with it. I’ll admit, I thought it was actually pretty funny given how she was acting at lunch, but now it looks like we’ve dug ourselves into a bit of a weird hole here.”

Shepard let out a sigh. “Yeah,” she dragged out. “I’m not really sure how we’re going to get out of this one,” she said with a smirk, trying to at least find the humour in it.

“After what she just saw, I don’t know if there is a way out of it. When she’s convinced of something, it’s hard to sway her mind,” Kaidan said with a small laugh. “I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable about us waking up like that, and her making assumptions.”

She did feel uncomfortable, but not because of any of that. The more significant issue for her was how strong her feelings for Kaidan had become. It was the same reason she worried about coming out here this whole time. She could ignore how she felt about him when she was stuck in London, but with everything that’s happened since seeing him in Vancouver again, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to deny how she felt.

“It was an honest mistake. I don’t particularly mind, I just hope that it doesn’t cause problems for you,” she countered.

“Nah, I can’t imagine that it would. I’m almost certain that Maisie’s already told the rest of the family, but they tend to leave well enough alone. I honestly don’t know if they’d believe her or not, but I do know they won’t make as big of a deal out of it if they do. At least they won’t be rubbing it in.”

Shepard nodded in acknowledgement, accepting that answer. She figured with everything Maisie had seen, it could lead to that kind of thing anyway.

“Are you sure you’re okay with all of this?”

Shepard smiled sympathetically at that. Now she was also upset for making Kaidan feel guilty about everything. “It’s really not a big deal. I’m still just grateful to have a place to stay for now, so I don’t mind putting up with some harmless rumours, especially when I’m the one that poked the fire in the first place. We should probably quit joking around, though,” she said, not wanting to make matters worse.

Kaidan nodded in agreement. “Probably a good idea,” he said as they finally reached the house. “But anyway, I suppose now is as good a time as any to show you my old room.”

“After you,” Shepard said with a smile as they went into the house and up the stairs, the old wood creaking under their feet as they went.

They finally reached a door that Shepard had to presume went to Kaidan’s room. He opened it and stepped in, waiting for her to follow. The first thing she noticed was the bed. That’s right. She had forgotten that they would have to be sharing.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out,” Kaidan said, noticing Shepard studying the sleeping arrangements.

The bed was big enough for both of them. Shepard had half a mind to say that they’d already fallen asleep together on the couch, so what was sharing a bed at this point? She thought better of it, but that didn’t change the fact that the bed was, in fact, big enough for the two of them.

“We can sleep head to toe. Just like in combat training, right?” Shepard said, punching him in the arm lightly, and incredibly awkwardly, as though he were her guy pal, reminiscing about the old days in the Alliance. She immediately regretted it and wanted to chastise herself for not knowing how to handle herself around him. She was upset for acting like this was some school-aged crush again. She kept her mouth shut, knowing that if she let anything escape it, her voice would crack. Luckily, Kaidan didn’t seem to react as though it were all that strange.

“Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” she said after clearing her throat awkwardly.

“All right, I guess that solves that. I’ll take the foot.”

Still being chivalrous as always. At least that wasn’t the worst compromise in the world, so Shepard just accepted the offer graciously.

“There’s an ensuite bathroom over here, which was a blessing growing up with three sisters.”

Shepard laughed at that. She wasn’t much for vanity, but she knew it could still take a long time to get ready, and she could imagine that it would have been a pain having to fight over the bathroom with three sisters. “I guess I’m lucky that I mostly only ever had to share one with my mom,” Jane said with a smile.

“Yeah. It was never fun when we all went to the apartment in Vancouver. We didn’t have the luxury of having so many bathrooms there,” he said, looking through the closet. “Looks like mom already brought our bags up,” he said, pointing to them on the shelf. “Otherwise, this is it. This is where I grew up,” Kaidan said with a wistful smile, pointing to the room by way of giving her permission to look around.

That encouraged Shepard to give it a proper examination. She had never really given much thought to where he must have grown up, but the more she looked around, the more she could see little pieces of him. She walked over to a poster on his wall and turned back at him.

“An Alliance recruitment poster?”

Kaidan tried to contain the smile that spread across his face. “Listen, I haven’t redecorated in a while.”

Shepard looked at him with mirth in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to tease. I had one in my room growing up, too. Mine didn’t last as long. You know, constantly reassigned to boarding school, or wherever my mom was stationed. Eventually, it just got lost in the shuffle. Otherwise, who knows? Maybe mine would still be up, too,” she said, almost surprised by the similarity. “Crazy to think we’re on these posters now, isn’t it?”

“You could say that again. When I joined the military, I didn’t exactly expect to become a face of the Alliance.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Shepard said. They both knew the problem all too well since they saw Libby’s reaction.

Shepard glanced around the room more. There were a few medals and trophies displayed and some art and pictures of his family. He had some more books and datapads organized neatly on a bookshelf with a nice desk by the window. She also noticed the blackout curtains. Probably for his migraines whenever he’d get them at home. Every little piece she picked out, felt very much like him.

“I like it,” she said as she finished looking around and turned back to him.

“Thanks. It’s nothing fancy or anything, but it was mine,” he said with a smile.

Another awkward silence passed between them, Kaidan brushing the hairs on the back of his neck with his hand.

“Well, anyway, it’s getting late,” he said. “Not sure if you’re tired or not, but I think I’m going to settle in for the night.”

“I could sleep.” It was a lie. She’d never been more awake in her life. Still, she figured being restless in bed was better than being left alone with Maisie and some potentially prodding questions that she didn’t feel like answering.

“Okay. You can have this bathroom. I’ll take the one across the hall.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile as she brushed passed him towards her bag.

She got changed and cleaned up as fast as she possibly could, not wanting to leave Kaidan waiting on her. She made her way back out into the room and made her way over to the bed. She hadn’t even thought about it, but habit took her to the right side, where she sat down gently, almost regretting it immediately. They hadn’t shared a bed together for all that long. It was really only briefly during their shore leave after defeating Saren, but the habit of having a side of the bed had stuck. It had become her side of the bed, even when there was no one else in it, leaving space for its rightful owner.

She looked at the empty side solemnly, wondering if it would be awkward for him that she chose this side. Maybe he wouldn’t even notice. She hoped she was overthinking the whole thing.

Then he walked into the room, as though he was summoned by her thoughts, not even giving her a chance to reconsider. Her head turned towards him, trying to see if he noticed.

“Already chosen a side of the bed, I see.”

That answered her question. “Yeah. I hope you don’t mind,” was all she decided to say. Letting him in on her thoughts would do neither of them any good.

“Of course not. I’m flexible, so whatever you prefer is fine,” he said, moving to the other side.

He sat down, and Shepard could feel the bed dip slightly on the other side, his back directly to hers as they both stared at opposite sides of the room. All of the memories of them settling into bed came flooding back to her, and the tension was almost too much for her to bear.

Luckily, the torture wasn’t extended as she finally felt Kaidan grab for a pillow from the head of the bed and put it towards the foot, lifting up the blankets and settling in.

“Goodnight, Jane,” he said, prompting her to look at him. He gave her a warm smile. “Don’t hesitate to wake me if you need anything.”

She smiled back at him with a nod of acknowledgement. He took that as comfort enough to roll over onto his side, looking away from her to get comfortable. She followed suit, getting comfortable on her own side. She stared at the wall in front of her, everything about it screamed ‘Kaidan.’ Every little thing in her view, serving as a reminder for where she was and who she was with, wishing that the circumstances were different. She braced herself for the long night ahead, and finally replied, “Goodnight, Kaidan.”

#f!Shenko #f!Shepard/Kaidan Alenko #f!Shepard #Kaidan Alenko #mass effect #fanfiction #mass effect fanfiction #angst #mini slowburn #friends to lovers #accidental dating #post-war #my fic on Tumblr #my writing

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hyperionswrath--archived · 4 years

Text

@onepartbrave

Gaze innately drawn to the weapon still grasped in his former rival’s hand, Squall felt his brows raise at watching the aforementioned disappear. Well… wasn’t that a neat trick? He’d heard of the way the Glaives could summon forth an artillery from thin air but witnessing it first-hand was mystifying in sense. Almost surreal. If he didn’t already live in a world filled with profound magic and enchanted beasts, he’d have questioned his sanity. Alas, his rationality was sound as was his physical form once again… thanks to Seifer. Head tilting as the fact bounced around internally, he wondered on why it felt almost too strange to him. Like an obscure dream.

Shrugging away the counterproductive reflections, his attention was snatched up by the abrupt change in demeanour of the blond. Gone was the cocky persona he’d expected and in its place was… frustration? Huh? Yup. The burning in those green eyes indicated enmity and it was directed at him. Concern popped to the forefront of his mind—for the man, not himself—and he was about to voice the worry but was beaten to it. What the fuck was he thinking?

Jokes on you, even I don’t know.

Consciously ignoring the unhelpful jibe in his head, Squall failed to respond in quick succession. In fact, he failed to do anything except appear as unhelpful as he felt. Face creased into a prominent frown, he tried to piece together what had gotten Seifer so peeved at him (honestly, it didn’t take much) but faltered when the blond inched closer. Aptitude drew his bewildered eyes down when the other’s hand moved to and his body tensed from muscle memory, prepared to defend should a hit come sailing his way. As it were, nothing did. The Glaive’s intended path was cut short and Squall’s weary gaze returned to the blond’s face, surprised to see it turn away and glare metaphorical daggers at an unfortunate chair.

…Why did he feel as though he was to blame for this, too?

Chewing inwardly on his cheek, Squall mindlessly took a few steps forward, closing more of the distance left between. Safety concerns were thrown out of the window for now, he wanted to know what was ailing Seifer. Because, correct him if he was wrong… but he swore that was genuine concern he’d discerned. For him. Getting shot was a good enough reason for anyone to fret over another person, but Seifer too had been wounded but hardly seemed to care? Had it… been because he’d picked up on the fact Squall had no remedies? Ugh. Another one he owed the guy.

“…I wasn’t thinking,” Squall offered cautiously, head cocking a little to try and bring Seifer’s line of sight back to his own. “I acted irrationally. I just…” He sighed, feeling regret and shame pool in the pit of his stomach. Seifer got injured on his behalf and he hadn’t even the necessities to right that wrong. “I slipped up. It’s not a common occurrence so…” What? Don’t worry? D’you wanna patronise the guy and get decked? Just—shut up. “Forget it,” he said in substitute, a little too snappy for its intention. “I’ll make it up to you. Drinks on me in another place?”

Perhaps his olive branch would settle any debt. He hoped so. Last thing he needed was to be owing anyone. Hands clenching in and out of nervous fists at his side, he scowled lightly when noticing and jammed them harshly in his pockets instead. The less he embarrassed himself in the aftermath, the better. Although, when examining the aftermath properly, a little light in place now with temporary lanterns being set around, he winced on the inside. This might be a pricey fix…

As though hearing his plea for something to distract him, Squall’s phone began vibrating. Scrambling to grab it, he yanked it out of his pocket with unnecessary force, nearly dropping it with a fumble of fingers. Pushing the button to answer the private number, he said a rushed, “Yeah?” before grimacing at who he answered. Listening attentively despite the abrupt drop in his already abysmal mood, he waited with wavering patience as the tone on the other end delivered a short, sharp set of instructions amidst a bunch of reprimands. In the end, he was hung up on and his face was set in stone, looking like he’d swallowed a lemon.

Switching off the display, he rehoused his device and ground his teeth together. If the night couldn’t get any worse… “My team will clean up,” he relayed in a toneless drone, thoroughly fed up with the day and wanting it to end, “and we’ll cover any costs. I’m—bye.”

About facing, Squall rudely didn’t wait for any response as he headed for the exit. God, he was in dire need of some fresh air and distance from the absolute nightmare of a mission end. …And no, he wasn’t running from Seifer, thank you very much.

If there hadn't been this inherent boiling under his surface, Seifer might have caught the glance of curious eyes watching as the amiger took his weapon in. For him, too, it had been a rather strange experience when he witnessed it for the first time. More so even as he learned he would be able to connect Hyperion with the powers he was able to dip in to once he was sworn to the King of Lucis. If anything, it was able to give him a certain edge in any fight, sometimes even granting him the upper hand, but only if he played his cards right. As it were, he still could feel more words dance on the tip of his tongue at this moment, only partly aware that he in some way must have flustered the brunet with his outburst. Yet if he had been after exactly this kind of emotional display before to file it away or even better, take jabs at it, he didn't seem to care that much about their usual bickering this very moment.

Of course he hadn't missed the way Squall had reclined, ready to defend himself as soon as his hand had risen just about an inch, maybe reason for him to halt his move in the end and let his arm fall to his side again. A hum rolled from his lips, surprised in its tonation, as Seifer registered the other one step closer towards him instead of bringing more distance between them. His gaze flitted to the corners of his eyes to perceive the man, muscles on his jaw twitching slightly as the brunet set to speak. And what he heard... it was enough to make his face turn towards Squall again, his expression softening just so. Again, the muscles around his mouth tensed as he seemed to rephrase whatever wanted to slip out of it before he let out a huff. "Doesn't sound like you at all...", he quietly admitted, lips pressed thin now. He didn't like the way the brunet acted at all, because for all he knew, something was very off about it. The famed Lion was no one who did not think, or slipped up, or acted irrationally for that matter. All those years of consequently pestering the guy to harden him for the world out there and this was what came of it?

In just that brief moment of reflection and honesty Squall directed at him, Seifer felt he could sense a whole range of emotion and, most notable, words coming from the other than he had ever witnessed before, in such a way it only helped to deepen his concern. Nope, he didn't like this shit one bit. At all. ‘Forget it’, he said, as if that was even possible if you knew Squall Leonhart for as long as he had. Shit, not even his friends would be able to let what had happened here go. "Sure.", he said nonetheless, letting just enough sarcasm drip into his voice to leave it up to the brunet if he really meant to forget about it or not.

Again, unexpected words came following up just mere moments later, rising Seifer's brows in astonishment. He actually wanted to spend more time? Together? Now, that really wasn't what he had expected when they ran into each other this evening, battles and a destroyed Glaive Bar aside. "I could just sneak out a bottle or two.", he commented helpfully with a nonchalant shrug, trying to get his bearings again and sound as much as his usual, cocky self. Vocalization maybe playing along, his eyes didn't, still shooting probing looks at the man. "But yeah, sure. Could use a drink or ten now." he agreed, knowing full well that good old Squall certainly wouldn't approve of stealing pricey alcohol from a bar they had just smashed to smithereens. At least he was slowly able to calm down again, the rush of the fight driven out of him leaving him only with the afterglow of sore muscles and a faint sting in his shoulder that would pass in time. Thus, he glanced the nervously clenching fists of his former rival, just a mere second before the clever boy hid them inside his jacket. The mere move was enough to tug at his lips. He was just opening his mouth to say something when the brunet's phone rang, shutting him up, but not stopping him from laughing, to his surprise rather softly, at the fumbling that commenced as Squall tried to take his call. Fuck, if someone had told him he would ever in his life be able to see the famed Lion so beside himself and that all it would cost was to take a bullet for him, shit, he'd done it sooner.

Turning his body just a little to grant Squall some privacy, he leaned down to pick up his glove he left on the floor, slowly slipping it back over his hand. From the corners of his eyes he could see enough to grasp that whatever this call was about, it wasn't Rinoa whispering sweet nothings. Well, if anything, someone else was having a shit day with their superiors, so maybe he could feel a little less sorry about himself now. Rubbing his chin at the thought, he lifted a brow when he detected the sour expression on Squall's face. "Bad call?", he asked then, an air of sympathy in his voice. Damn didn't he know what a pain in the ass people in charge could be? But instead of an answer he received a pretty curt dismissal and, as if the brunet didn't know better, he left Seifer standing. Back to ignoring him again was it now?

Biting on his tongue to not call out to his former rival, he instead stayed behind for a moment, trying to grasp what the fuck had just happened here. "Ungrateful shit.", he muttered, steering resolute steps toward the bar and waving off Glaives trying to initiate a conversation with him about the attack they had just faced, not understanding where it had even come from. That he would take care of tomorrow. Tonight, however... Swiftly he ducked behind the bar counter, already knowing his poison and unceremoniously fetching a new bottle of Galahdian Whiskey from a shelf before turning to the exit himself. Sauntering down the flight of stairs, the cool night air brushing his face, he flicked the bottle open swiftly, taking a deep swig.

#onepartbrave #they are both so confused omg x3 #rp #long post

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alargebear · 4 years

Text

Back Home

Summary: Dia comes back home after college and has a talk with a girl she could never forget about.

Words: 2.2k

Pairing: ChikaDia

Links: AO3

Note: Gosh it’s been a minute but I’m back with some simple ChikaDia sweetness.

The gentle, warm breeze rolling off the waves signaled to Dia that summer was around the corner. Replacing that chill from the spring months, kicking off the start of a new season and for her a new path to walk. Staring out at the sea with a rather boisterous group behind the front door to a familiar inn, Dia was home truly for the first time in over four years.

Visits from college and the few weeklong breaks were only a small taste of the home she never could soak in until now. With graduation only a couple days behind her, and a new life of work ahead, Dia took solace in the quiet moment of respite from the rowdy party thrown for her. Deep breaths and a content smile filled a moment that allowed everything to sink in. She was at home. Surrounded by seven girls she held closer than any she’d met in her years studying, and one that she never could move on from.

A rattling of the door and a bump in the back drew Dia’s attention from the picturesque scene in front of her and toward the woman at her side.

“I found ya!”

Chika was as loud as Dia remembered. Hair still the same length with that signature braid and goofy little strand sticking straight up on top. Still smiling like always, still lacking any sense of personal space like always, still looking with eyes that knew a bit too much like always, and still gorgeous like always.

“It’s not like I can out here to hide from you guys.” Dia looked back out toward the sea, Chika’s eyes too bright. “I needed a bit of fresh air, and I definitely did not need to be in there when Mari started pulling out the alcohol.”

“If it makes you feel any better Kanan is trying to keep things under control a little bit.”

“It doesn’t.”

Chika laughed. “But you should come back inside. You’re kinda the star of the show here.”

“I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” Dia took a quick glance back to Chika, who stared with a shine too bright before looking away. “I haven’t gotten to enjoy this view very much lately.”

Silence as they stood shoulder to shoulder. Dia didn’t know how long, her sense of time going haywire as Chika stood by her like nothing was wrong. Like nothing ever happened. It was reassuring in a way, to not have to worry about the bits of awkwardness that came in the times they talked in those first years after she left.

“You can head back inside,” Dia said, motioning back toward the door. “I won’t be long.”

Chika shook her head with a hum. “It’s nice out here. So I think I’ll stay.”

Dia was never good at small talk, but something needed to be said. At least she thought something did. There wasn’t the tension she expected, but there was a tad awkwardness to the silence between them. A silence that in high school would have been filled with Chika’s inane ramblings that Dia missed so dearly. She rubbed her hands up and down the side of her dress a sweat beaded on her palms. Why couldn’t they go back to the way things were before she left all of it behind?

“Are you happy to be back here?” Chika broke the silence.

Dia met Chika’s eyes head-on. The question seeming out of the blue. “Yeah, I missed it a lot. Tokyo is nice, and there’s always something to do, but this is home.”

A faint smile across Chika’s lips as she started. “So you’re staying here for good, right? You’re taking over for your parents, or whatever.”

Dia nodded and didn’t miss the small sigh from Chika. “I’ll still have to travel for work and all that, but I’ll always come back.”

“Good.”

That faint smile turned into the bright grin that Dia was drawn in by five years ago. That playful grin and the shining glint in Chika’s eyes were the same as the ones Dia knew she would never be able to forget, and seeing them in person made her remember. Remember what she left behind.

“Was Tokyo fun?” Chika asked. “It was so cool when we got to go there with everyone for Love Live.”

“I didn’t get to see all that much of it.” Dia’s smile drooped, lips forming a straight line. “I was os busy with all my school work, and student government responsibilities that I didn’t have any time to get out and see as much of the city as I wanted to.”

“Well, that sucks.” Chika kicked at a pebble that wasn’t there, smile holding. “I’d have gone all over the place and explored the big city.”

Dia giggled. “And probably got lost and wouldn’t know what to do.”

“Hey!” Chika pushed her face in closer. “That happened one time when we went there together, and it wasn’t even my fault.”

Dia folded her arms. “I seem to remember you calling me because you couldn’t sit still while I stopped to use the restroom. So you wandered off and I had to go and find you.”

Chika looked back toward the sea, scratching the back of her head. “Okay maybe it was my fault, but it wasn’t all that bad. I mean, we found that little cafe that had that tea you liked.”

“You’re right.” Dia’s jittery heart was slowing, feeling herself fall into her familiar, comfortable rapport with Chika. “I wish I could remember the name of that place.”

“So do I.” Chika’s excitement faded and warped into a bashful stare Dia hadn’t seen in years. “That was also when we had our first kiss.”

The awkward tension was back as soon as it left, and Dia was unsure what to do. A topic she was hoping to avoid being brought up in the most nonchalant way by the person she least wanted to hear it from. She knew, deep down, that it was a talk that needed to happen. Seeing Chika smile at her like she used to made her remember. Made those long-dormant feelings rekindle into something Dia knew as her first love.

The silence gripped for a few minutes longer. Dia’s hands were back at her side sweat began to bead behind her bangs. More deep breaths and an attempt to swallow down the lump in her throat were all she could muster. She didn’t know what to say. How could she? It was her idea in the first place.

“Uhm, Dia?” Chika squeaked her question out. Her voice was fraught with worry and doubt so out of place. “Did you. Did you, ya know, meet anyone when you were in Tokyo. Cause I wouldn’t blame you one bit I mean it was four years ago and you’re pretty and I’m sure everyone there was super smart and pretty like you so I wouldn’t be surprised. I’m just kinda a little curious.”

The knots in Dia’s throat tried hard to keep her words down, but she would fight through it. This was Chika, and she deserved nothing but Honesty.

“There were two.” Dia’s answer was curt, her heartbreaking as she saw the life in Chika’s eyes die.

“Of course there were,” Chika mumbled to herself. “Are you still…”

“Oh, gods no. None of them were ever able to get very serious.” Dia’s words were quick doing anything she could to bring that shimmer back.

A sigh from Chika, much longer than before. “Why not?”

“I never had much time for it.” Dia looked to Chika, who shot back a look that said she didn’t buy it. “And honestly, I don’t think I was every looking all that hard for someone to love. Which now I can see wasn’t very fair to them while we were dating.”

It was the truth, not all of it, but the bits that Dia was comfortable telling Chika. How could she say that she never truly got over some high school puppy love that made it barely a year? How could she say that she couldn’t get some loud, obnoxious, and, in her own words, normal girl out of her mind long enough to be with anyone else? How could she say any of that knowing she was the one that ended it all?

“Are you still not looking?” Chika’s question was met with an odd stare from Dia. “For someone to fall in love with, I mean.”

How open could Dia be? She wasn’t blind. The obvious pain that Chika was in from bringing the topic up was written on a face that Dia learned could hide things better than most thought. But she learned to read it. The jittery eyes, the uneven smile, and the dim eyes were things Dia wished she could say she hadn’t seen before. Chika was in pain, and searching for hope the Dia knew she could give, but was it alright? Was any of this fair to Chika? That rekindling love burning brighter and brighter and the sun dropped lower and lower behind the waves.

It was Dia’s turn to be strong for Chika.

“I’m not looking.” Dia wanted to wait, but Chika’s worsening mood forced her to keep going. “I’ve always only ever had one person in mind. Even during those years at college there was one girl who I just couldn’t stop thinking about, and no matter who asked me out, or who I tried to date, none of them ever came close to how I felt about her.”

Chika was speechless, and Dia found it cute. A bashful yet scared Chika that was so new yet beautiful like all the Chika’s were. It was unfair of Dia, she knew that. To come back and expect things to fall into place like she never left, but the flame was back. The love was back faster and deeper than she expected.

Licking her lips and with bright cheeks Chika looked up, rubbing her hands together with a nervous vigor. “Dia, I really really don’t wanna get my hopes up, but this girl. Is it.”

“I know this is so selfish of me, Chika, and I’m sorry.” Dia didn’t want Chika to continue, the fragility not something she ever wanted to see again. “I said we needed to break up when I left and I think it was the right thing to do, but. Chika, I missed you so much, and I know things might not go back to the way they were right away, but I want you to know that I love you just like I did before. I’ll never ask for something this selfish again, but please let’s try again.”

There was a tug on one of Dia’s folded arms that forced them apart. A nervous hand interlacing their fingers with her own. So warm, an act of intimacy bringing a year’s worth of wonderful memories with it. It wasn’t an answer, Dia wouldn’t believe any of it to be true without Chika saying it, but it brought hope. Dumb, irrational, yet wonderful hope.

“I never hated you or anything,” Chika said, voice trembling as she slid in, shoulder touching Dia’s. “I cried a ton, and if I ever vent to You again she might explode, but you were just looking out for me. I still think it was stupid, but you did what you thought was best. That’s what Mari and Kanan always told me at least.”

“So?” Dia squeezed the hand in her own as if she were the one in need of reassurance. Asking a question she was sure she already had the answer to, but needing to hear it.

A lightweight rolled onto Dia’s shoulder that she still knew from the weight. It was Chika’s head. Still accompanied by the faintest hint of oranges and comfort.

“I’m so happy.” Chika sniffled. “I didn’t think you’d want me back. I thought you’d find some beautiful, smart woman in Tokyo that I’d never be able to compete with. Because I’m still plain ‘ol me, and you’re even more amazing Dia, but I’m so happy because I never stopped thinking about you.”

“I could never find anyone to replace you.” Dia hated that that side of Chika was still there, even after so long. “You’re the amazing girl who pulled me back into a wonderful life with friends that I’ll cherish forever, and I’m going to do whatever I can to make sure you understand that.”

Chika nuzzled in closer. “I still love you, Dia.”

Dia hummed, rubbing small circles on the back of Chika’s hand. “And I still love you, Chika. So much.”

Quiet again, but this time Dia was content to sit and bask in it. The party back inside could wait. Knowing there was work to do, and that this was a start of something that would need the effort to grow. Those thoughts were for later. Instead, Dia enjoyed the moment alone with the girl she never stopped loving. Knowing it would be the first of hundreds to come.

#ChikaDia #Chika Takami #dia kurosawa #love live #love live sunshine #love live fanfiction

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ashley-incharge · 4 years

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Going for a little less misery | Ashroo

Roo meets with Ashley to help her out and Ashley...is Ashley [dated: May 14th]

@littlemister-roo

ROO:

Roo knew he must be crazy. Why was he going through the trouble of getting anything for Ashley when she rarely treated him as anything but an idiot? Clearly he was way too soft. But whatever. It still seemed like the right thing to do. She'd mentioned the stretch marks and how much they upset her and he figured it wouldn't hurt to ask his mom if there was anything to be done. She was a nurse after all and she'd probably had the same experience when she'd been pregnant all those years ago. Sure enough, she'd come through and had brought home some super moisturizing goopy stuff from the hospital that was supposed to help.

So he'd texted Ashley and asked her to meet him at the park—he had no desire to go to her bestie's house and endure murderous stares from the redhead. Seriously, he was pretty sure the girl wanted to hurt him. He reached the meeting point first, for once, and settled himself on the park bench, placing the paper bag containing the tub of goop beside him. He pulled out his sketch pad and pencil form his backpack and set to drawing the scenery around him as he waited.

ASHLEY:

Ashley hadn't exactly stayed out of touch with Roo. She didn't like to give details of her life to anyone, but considering the fact that he had helped put her in the position she was in...well she bitched. Yeah. She definitely bitched when she saw these horrid marks starting to form on her thighs, her boobs, her hips...and of course the belly itself, though they weren't that extreme yet. Extreme or not, they were ugly to Ashley, and she had to bemoan this fact to someone. That someone was Roo. At seventeen weeks, Ashley was definitely feeling pregnant.

The round curve to her stomach was undeniable. As she made her way out toward the park, she'd selected a comfortable pair of leggings and a stretchy top that showed her body off while it was still somewhat nice. As a result some bitch thought she could just put her hand on Ashley's stomach. Ashley was unashamed to say she kicked the woman before continuing on her way to the park. Any idiot that thought they could touch Ashley would pay for it. She glanced around the park for a long minute before she finally spotted Roo, making her way over and settling down next to him before he could get the chance to see her approach. She was feeling pregnant and self conscious about it. "So...what's up? Did you want to know about the next doctor's appointment?"

ROO:

"Oh, hi Ashley! It's so good to see you! I hope you are doing well!" Roo teased, chuckling in response to her curt greeting. He was used to her being grumpy, though he wasn't sure if she was always like that or just when she was around him. It didn't really matter, he supposed, and chose to just shrug it off. "And sure, I want to know about the doctor's appointment, but I would have just texted you about that." He gestured to the paper bag between them. "My mom got this stuff from work and says it should help with you, umm, skin problem." She'd been pretty mad about the stretch marks so he didn't want to say the words in case it set her off.

ASHLEY:

Why did Roo have to be so stupidly nice all the time? It wasn't doing him any favors. In her opinion anyway. Even if he was joking around. She couldn't help but sigh, running a hand through her hair and making a face at him. "Nice to see you too I guess." Not really, but they were kind of in this together. She felt less guilty about bitching to him than she did with her girls. Her girls understood her but they..well. Ashley didn't want to force them to hear about the baby all the time. She couldn't help but be startled by the bag, and she cautiously peeked into it before reaching in to study the stuff that could help with her stretch marks. It was surprisingly thoughtful, and Ashley didn't know what to do with that.

"Thank you...you didn't have to do this," she pointed out, because he didn't. And Ashley didn't really want to owe him anything...but it was nice. She hated her stretch marks. She hated the way her body was changing. She had a lot to be frustrated by. She took the container out to study it a bit more carefully, her other hand tracing over her stomach absentmindedly. "This really works?"

ROO:

Roo snorted. He was pretty sure she didn't mean it, but at least she was trying. Sort of. And of course he didn't have to do anything, but—he figured that if they were in this together, he could make an effort to make her life a little less miserable. Maybe if she was less miserable, she would be nicer to him? It was a long shot, but worth it. Besides—it just seemed like the right thing to do. And after talking more with his mom about her experience as a pregnant teenage girl, he wanted to do his best to be sure that Ashley didn't feel alone in this. "Supposedly," he shrugged. "My mom says it does. She's a nurse and usually knows what she's talking about. I guess its suppose to make stuff hurt less and if you use it daily the, um, problem should fade in time."

ASHLEY:

Ashley hummed. "Well I'll take it. Anything to make my body look less gross." And okay, the stretch marks weren't that bad yet, but it would only get worse right? She felt fat already and she wasn't that far into the pregnancy! The stretch marks would undoubtedly get worse. She carefully placed the stuff back into the bag and turned to face Roo. "Since you're here, I was wondering if you could do me a slight favor?" Up until now, she had been documenting this pregnancy with her phone mostly and trying to get decent angles of her stomach on her own, but she was no miracle worker. "Would you take a picture of me? Or pictures? I can't decide if it's better to just have a picture like this or if I want to lift my shirt and get a shot like that too you know? And I'm going to make our kid a photo album."

ROO:

Roo blinked. She wanted him to—take a picture? Of her? He was surprised that she was asking for help, even for something small like that. And even more surprised that she wanted him to do something that would involve him looking at her for more than two seconds at a time—he had the feeling she didn't want any more of his attention than was absolutely necessary. But he was glad to help. Besides, making a photo album for the baby seemed like a good idea. Their circumstance was not exactly ideal but that wasn't the baby's fault, now was it? "Umm, ok. I can do that, sure!" He glanced around. "Like, with your phone? Or...what?"

ASHLEY:

Ashley snorted. "Yes with my phone. I don't have a good quality camera on me." She didn't really when she'd been taking the pictures she had so far. She reached into her purse, tugging out her phone and unlocking it for the camera setting quickly, offering it up to Roo so she could get it over with. She realized this meant she was going to have him look at her, but well. Ashley usually liked people looking at her, and she'd just ignore it if he said anything weird. "I kind of want a front profile and a side profile picture. I think that'd be good. Don't you?"

ROO:

"Sure, sure," Roo agreed easily, taking the phone from her and stepping back to look over his subject. What? He may not be a photographer, but he was an artist and had an eye for this sort of thing. He frowned. It was the middle of the day and sun was high in the sky, which meant that the shadows on her face made her look really splotchy. He knew she'd hate that. "Why don't you stand underneath that tree?" he suggested, gesturing to a shady spot just a few yards away. "The lighting is way better there and I think you'll be much happier with the end result."

ASHLEY:

Ashley was surprised that Roo took it so seriously, but she wasn't going to complain. Her baby deserved the best pictures, and if he was going to capture her properly, the right lighting would be better too. She moved over to the spot he pointed to, turning so she faced him head on first, a hand resting lightly just under her bump. "How's this then? Better? Can you even really see my stomach like this?"

ROO:

Roo grinned, nodding with satisfaction. "Yeah, that's a million times better!" His lips pursed thoughtfully as she struck her pose, however. She was right, from straight on, it was hard to tell that there was a belly that was supposed to be the focus of the picture. He knew exactly how he would solve the problem if he was drawing her—a strategically drawn curve at the top and bottom along with a bit of shading would define it nicely. But how to do it with a camera? "Hmmm, no actually. You have a point. It's hard to tell from this angle but—oh!" His eyes brightened as he noticed the way her hand rested at the bottom of her stomach. "What if you put your other hand on top of your belly? I think that would show it off really nicely."

ASHLEY:

Ashley hummed. "You're right that might work. After that we can probably get the side profile. That'll definitely show better than this." She knew that much at least. The front profile would be interesting to have too though. She wanted to have that. So she went ahead and put her other hand on top of the bump. "Okay...how's that? Better? Does it look okay?"

ROO:

"Perfect!" Roo touched his thumb and forefinger together in an 'a-ok' sign. "Alright, now you just need to smile. C'mon just think about how gorgeous you are, that ought to do it." Was he laying it on thick? Maybe just a little. But he wanted her to smile, pretty sure she wouldn't be happy with the photos if she was doing that scowl thing she did whenever he was around in every pic. Once he'd lined up the shot and snapped the photo, he said, "Wait, don't move. I wanna get one more—" Before she could react, he whirled around, putting his back to her and raised the phone up to snap a quick selfie with her (baby belly and all) in the background. "There, now there's at least one with me in it," he laughed, hoping that if he acted natural, she'd go along with it and not murder him with one of her death glares. "Now, turn to the side and we can get that profile pic real quick."

ASHLEY:

Ashley snorted, though she did manage enough of a smile for the first picture. Flattery always worked pretty well on her, and she was pretty sure that he knew that. It was embarrassing. But oh well. At least there would be a good picture of her. She was feeling pretty good about it until that idiot went and snapped a selfie of the two of them just like that. "Hey! You could have just asked you asshole!" Ashley was indignant, a scowl forming on her face. "If you just asked I probably would have given you a picture. Our baby could have one shot of both her parents together." Still, she should just move on. Get the other picture she needed and get the hell out of there. That would suit her best. She turned to the side, a hand rubbing over the bump that she had. "Better this way isn't it? I mean you can really see it right?"May 12, 2020

ROO:

Roo tried not to laugh, really he did. But he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy getting a rise out of her on his terms once in awhile. Just like old times—old times being, what? Like nine or ten months ago? Back when things were way more simple, or as simple as anything involving Ashley could be anyways. "I could have asked, but where's the fun in that?" He grinned crookedly before turning his focus back on her pose. "Yeah, it's definitely noticeable this way. You picked a good shirt for this, which helps." He raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to one side as he asked, "Have you ever thought about modeling, by the way? Because I have to say, you look good, Ashley." There, another compliment to try and smooth things over.

ASHLEY:

Ashley scoffed. "I don't know, maybe a semi decent conversation for once would be good for you." Not that she cared that much really. It didn't matter. As long as they worked together enough for the baby, Ashley wouldn't care what he did. A smile spread across her face, and she tossed some of her hair over her shoulder. "You know I did consider it. Especially now that I am pregnant to be honest. I must be the hottest pregnant chick in town right now. Modeling would be a smart move." She traced a thumb over her stomach, glancing down at it with a litlte smile. "I look pretty good for a pregnant chick."

ROO:

Roo rolled his eyes, though he was still laughing. There was no such thing as a semi decent conversation when it came to Ashley. Had he asked for a picture with her, he was sure she would have mocked him. At least this way, he could play it off as a joke. It stung less that way. Those feeling feelings vanished, however, as she smiled genuinely and began to preen. At least he was getting better at judging how to put her into a better mood. He smirked, snapping photos while she preened and then caught that last one as she looked down, still smiling. There was something so soft and intimate about the gesture, it took his breath away. "You are definitely the hottest pregnant chick in town," he said, clearing his throat and pretending he wasn't gawking at her like an idiot. "You should totally do it. And here—" he walked over and handed her the phone. "Check these and see if they work for you. I can retake them if you want."

ASHLEY:

Ashley laughed. "Well I'm glad you can agree with me. There are a few out there in town these days." But Ashley didn't think they held a candle to her. And modeling the belly would be fun. Maybe she should do it. She just wasn't sure how she'd get herself into it. But the money might be worth it. She reached out for Roo's phone, carefully scanning through the photos he'd taken. "These are great. Thank you. Really. I want to document as much as possible you know? My mom didn't really do that for us and...I don't know...I think it's important."

ROO:

"I get that," Roo agreed, sincere. "My mom did a little, more after I was born though since she was alone, ya know? And even though I think the photos are totally embarrassing," he laughed, "It also means a lot to me to know that she cared enough to do it." Though he had no illusions of a future where he and Ashley were settled down as some loving, happy couple, he was going to do his damndest to do his part to make sure their baby knew they were cared for and loved. "Seriously, Ashley. I know you said you've been taking photos every week, so if you need me to snap a few for you, just let me know." His soft smile shifted to a grin and he winked. "And I promise, no more selfies without permission."

ASHLEY:

"She clearly loves you. It doesn't take a genius to see that much." Ashley was a little jealous of it at times, though she would never admit to that. Roo had a mother around who cared about him, who didn't treat him like the plague for having knocked a girl up (though she supposed it might be different too being the boy in this story). He was a lucky kid. He got to stay at home where he belonged. Ashley in the meantime would wonder and worry over whether her brother and sister were well fed. If her parents had thought to make sure they did their homework well or whatever. Those were things she worried about, just as she worried about whether she could even be a good mom to the kid she was carrying. Looking at her family history it didn't seem promising. "Well then maybe you can help me with my week by week photography. I want to have a progression you know? Some people do it with videos, I want to do it with pictures. I want to document the journey. Really. And...I mean I don't want pictures we don't agree on, but I suppose pictures of you would also be warranted. Especially if you gained sympathy weight."

ROO:

Of course his mom loved him. Roo had never once doubted that, in spite of his fury over the secrets and lies that had been the beginning of all of this mess. And he knew just enough about Ashley's family to be all the more thankful for his own mother and her care for him over the years. He snorted. "I can't make any promises about the sympathy weight thing, but I'll sure try if that's what it takes to make it into the baby book." He grinned at her, thinking it was nice when they got along and hoped this could continue. "And sure, I'd be glad to help with the weekly pics. Just say the word and I'm there."

ASHLEY:

"It doesn't require weight gain on your part really. The kid deserves to know what their dad was like at this point in time." Even if Ashley didn't like him and would prefer to make the book exclusively about her. It wasn't. She knew that it wasn't. Ashley turned toward Roo and smiled. "Oh I will. Don't worry. I don't want to skip a week like last week because I couldn't get a good angle. You're in for it now Romeo."May 13, 2020

ROO:

Roo couldn't help but grin hopefully. Maybe this teen parenting teamwork thing wouldn't be so hard after all? If she truly hated him, she'd be doing everything her power to keep him out of the baby's life, right? "Good," he replied with a grin. "I'm here for it." He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and checked it real quick. "Oh shoot, that was my alarm. My lunch break is almost over and I gotta get back to the Barn." He eyed her questioningly. "Need anything else from me? Or are we good for now?"

ASHLEY:

Ashley snorted. "You better be honest about that one. Because I want the best pictures I can get. If I wanted to model the pics should be so good that I theoretically could." She replied and then snorted. "No okay, mostly kidding. But I do want them to turn out nice." Her eyebrows shot up at the alarm. She wanted to say something snarky, but the guy needed that job. Ashley didn't have one, and their kid would probably be an expensive little gift. "No no. Go on then. I'll let you know if anything comes up."

#littlemister-roo #r: ashroo #p: going for a little less misery

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mattzerella-sticks · 5 years

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Ambien for Hunters with Archangels Trapped in their Heads

(Dean/Cas fic, Coda for 14x14 “Ouroboros, Bedsharing, Domestic Feels, 2.3 k)

Dean admitted to Castiel he has trouble sleeping. So after being overwhelmed one night, Castiel decides to help Dean lower his guard for one night.

(Link to Ao3)

Dean needed sleep. For the fourth night in a row, Dean stared unblinking at his ceiling when he should be unconscious. The thought flit across his mind that he might as well put up a few posters, to give his eyes something else to look at. But Michael’s consistent pounding knocked it out just as quickly as it popped in. He tugged his pillow out from behind his head and over his face, screaming his frustration into it.

Dean didn’t know how long he stayed like that. Not enough that he suffocated himself, but a good amount of time so that the drum inside his head was put off by a different tempo. A faster one, outside his own mind, that was interceded by frantic pleas in a worried voice. He shot up; flicking his lamp on so Dean could better see his door. Rushing over, Dean opened it up, stopping Castiel before he broke through the wood.

Castiel froze, fist raised and angel blade drawn at his side. Dean glanced at the weapon before trailing up to his face. His eyes were wide, eyebrows raised as high as they could go, and his lips were parted.

Dean hazarded a grin. “You okay there, Cas?”

“I…” he swallowed around his words, sheepishly dropping his fist. “I heard… I felt that you were… in distress.”

Blushing, Dean turned over to his bed where his pillow and blankets were messily strewn about. “Yeah,” he told him, “It’s – um… it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with.”

He felt Castiel move behind him, breath ghosting at the back of his neck. “Michael?”

Nodding, Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said, voice a low growl, “It’s… I’m used to… you didn’t…” He stopped, taking a deep breath, facing Castiel again. “Thanks for coming, though. S’nice, knowing you… care and all that – all that junk.”

Castiel smiled, laying his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I’ll always be there if you need me, Dean.”

Licking his lips, Dean tried to collect any errant moisture to wet his quickly drying mouth. “I know…” He stepped away. “I should… probably try and get back to it.” Dean jerked a lazy thumb backwards, “Got a good feeling tonight could be the night!” The joke landed on shaky legs, neither of them laughing in the increasingly thick atmosphere. Failing to find anything else to say, Dean left Castiel in the doorway.

However, instead of leaving Dean as he expected, Castiel waited until he was on the other side of the door before closing it.

“Cas what are you –“

“You’re still having trouble sleeping?”

“I would think that’s obvious…”

Castiel moved closer, standing over Dean on the other side of his bed. “I’ve read in… certain studies, that people tend to sleep easier when there’s someone else in the room with them. Someone they trust.”

Dean huffed. “I doubt having you watching me like that all night is gonna help any…”

“I don’t have to stay here,” Castiel continued, fingers gently stroking Dean’s sheets. “I could busy myself nearby at your desk or… or I could lay with you.”

Dean’s heart stopped, jumping up into his throat before falling back down to beat at double its speed. “You – uh… are you offering?”

Castiel shrugged. “Only if you think it might help.”

The ball bounced back into Dean’s court. He frowned, staring down at how his hands have mangled his blanket. It was hard coming up with any reason why Castiel’s suggestion was a bad idea. Any list he started immediately fell apart as Michael’s barrage grew in strength. Dean kneaded at his temples, sighing. “Why not?” he said, “Not like I’ve got a whole lot of Hail Mary’s in my back pocket.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. He went to sit, only for Dean to shoo him off. “What?”

“You’re not getting into my bed like that.”

“What’s wrong with my outfit?”

“Besides it being everywhere,” Dean said, “It’s… I’m not gonna get any sleep knowing you’re dressed like…”

“Like an accountant? A flasher?” Castiel sighed, pulling from a catalogue of things Dean had compared him to in the past. “A creep.”

“Like you’re ready to leave.” The confession punched him in the gut, forcing Dean to crouch over himself. He strangled the blanket, unwilling to look up at Castiel even after hearing his quiet gasp and pitying hum. Dean readied himself for Castiel to turn away, then, and pretend like he never suggested this to begin with.

He heard fabric rustle in the background. “Dean?” Castiel asked, “What would you prefer I slept in?”

Dean willed his blush away, using some of his strength keeping Michael at bay to look at Castiel. He had shucked his trench coat, and fingered the buttons underneath his loosened tie. Biting his tongue, Dean very carefully chose his next words. “Boxers are fine, and whatever undershirt you got on, too.”

Castiel stripped down to that, even tugging off his socks and balling them up. Then, without any preamble, he got into bed with him. He sat in Dean’s bed, leaning against the headboard, legs crossed over each other.

It was a strange sight for Dean. He hadn’t seen Castiel under dressed in reality. There were some things he got wrong. His muscles were more defined than he realized, and he wasn’t sure if the lamplight made his skin look tanner. The boxers he wore were loose and white, a thick outline in the center that emphasized how happy his trail ended. That was another thing; Castiel didn’t seem like the type to have body hair. But it was there, where his shirt rode up and all the way down to his toes. He had been staring at his feet for quite some time before Castiel cleared his throat, drawing his attention back up to him. One eyebrow was raised, and he smirked. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

Like a chastised child, Dean quickly ducked his head down. Turning his back to Castiel, Dean lay down and drew the blanket up to his chin. “Can you turn off the –“

Flick!

“…Thanks.”

Dean felt Castiel’s eyes on him, the powerful gaze moving down from his taut shoulders to the curve of where he’s tucked his legs underneath him. Its heat scorched him, and made it more difficult than ever to fall asleep. Still, he kept silent. Dean didn’t trust himself to speak, unsure what words might escape.

Castiel seemed to not have this problem. Flick! “You’re uncomfortable.”

Frowning, Dean rolled over enough for Castiel to see his dimples. “Yeah, and…?”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” At that, Dean rolled back over, hiding his blush yet again from his friend. “Dean,” Castiel tried, “Please. You can tell me anything…”

Sighing, Dean adjusted himself once more. He now sat next to Castiel, arms side by side. His skin burned hotter than Baby’s hood in a Texan summer where it met Castiel’s.

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “It’s… it’s not like you can really do anything. I’m – uh… I’m not really used to having another guy in my bed.”

Castiel skewed his head to the right. “I don’t understand, to my knowledge you and Sam have shared beds many times in your life.”

Snorting, Dean shook his head. “That was different.”

“How so?”

“Well I was never a…” He stopped, biting his lip. Dean nearly let slip a dangerous fact that, with an archangel in his head, he wasn’t too keen with sharing just yet. But his guard had been lowered, as he was wont to do when around his angel. Michael punched the door, the simple lock shaking. Dean drew into himself, reinforcing his defenses. “You’re not Sammy,” he shrugged.

His curt response wasn’t lost on Castiel. “Even so,” he said, after a long pause, “I don’t think this will work if you aren’t receptive –“

“And maybe it won’t work even if I am?” Dean cut him off. He ran a hand through his hair, breathing a sharp whistle through his teeth. “Christ, Cas, why are you being so nice?”

“Because – because you are burdened and –“

“And what? It’s not like this is new to me. Dad’s secrets, the Mark, and now Michael? My whole life has left me nothing but tired and… and I don’t get it…” Out from the corner of his eye he saw Castiel’s forlorn expression, and it seizes his heart. Losing all fight, he continued in a quieter voice. “I know you’re trying to help. I’m… I’m not used to this. I’ve always had to… shoulder it all on my own, and – well, it’s hard for this old dog to learn a new trick.”

Castiel doesn’t respond, and his heart cracks. He covers his eyes with both hands, rubbing at them. “Look, I’ll understand if you want to just go – I get it. This wasn’t the easy plan you were expecting –“

“No!”

He tore Dean’s hands away, holding them within his own. Castiel stared at him softer than he’s ever seen, sure that he was looking past Dean’s face and into his very mind to find Michael’s cage. Stumbling upon Dean’s inner self hunched over in front of the door as the archangel continued his attempts at freedom.

“No,” he repeated, much softer, “Dean I… I won’t leave you. It would take a powerful being to force me away from your side. All I want to do is be near you and… and make you happy. Michael… there’s not much I can do, for all my angelic power. But this I… it’s the simplest thing I can offer.” He shook, as if whatever Dean chose to do next could break him.

The man beside him was amazing. Castiel would charge headfirst into danger with no care as to the possibility of death, a trait that gnawed at Dean’s own nerves. But here, this charged emotional moment seemed to be worse than facing down an army of demons with no back up for him. Dean smiled at the display of humanity. “I… I’m so used to taking care of things.”

“For once, Dean, let me take care of you.”

The weights that were tied to Dean’s shoulders dropped, and they sagged for what felt like the first time in years. “I’m so tired, Cas…”

“It’s all right,” Castiel comforted him, drawing Dean near, “Lay down, I’m here…” He was guided to Castiel’s chest, pillowing his head up against it. Instead of listening to the simple cadence of another heartbeat, Castiel’s body hummed like an engine. The sound puts him more at ease then ever, and easily overpowers Michael’s banging. Then, with one arm wrapped around his chest, Castiel runs his fingers through Dean’s hair. His petting, coupled with the melody he sung under breath, all helped drive him into a comforting blackness.

Dean chuckled. “Who knew cuddling would be the key to defeating Michael?”

“Well the answers we search for always did come from unexpected places…”

“Yeah, unexpected...” Dean shifted in place, staring up at Castiel’s jaw through his lashes. “Speaking of… when did we get so domestic?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just… I’m not one for all this touchy-feely crap. Not that I don’t like it it’s… never really found anyone who’d want to do this, especially with me.”

“You and I have known each other for… ten years, is it?”

“Give or take a couple of months.”

“That’s a long time,” Castiel said, “Even to someone like me who has been around for millennia… I’ve done more in that time than I ever did as a simple soldier. And while there are things to be proud of and to regret… what I most cherish are the bonds I’ve built here on Earth. Ours especially.”

“I… I feel the same,” Dean told him, “You… you’re not someone I thought I could ever have in my life. Not because you’re an angel… but because you’re so – so good. You’re my best friend, and you’re there for me even after all the mistakes I’ve made.”

“I’m no innocent either,” Castiel whispered into his hair, “You know all my sins, the pain I’ve caused.”

“But you’re you, and I’m me and…” Dean grinned into Castiel’s chest, “I’m lucky that we keep finding our way back to each other. That even though the world keeps crapping on us, at least it gave us this.”

Castiel agreed with him. Snuggling in closer, Dean wrapped his arms around his friend’s torso. He tried to cover his yawn with Castiel’s chest, but it didn’t work.

“You should go to sleep Dean.”

Dean whined. “But I’m enjoying this too much…”

“I’ll still be here when you wake up.” Dean stilled, turning his neck to stare at the wall across from him. Castiel sensed his unease. “Dean?”

“What if I’m not?”

“What if –“

“What if I go to sleep, and Michael breaks free. And I never wake up, and he’s here and you’re here and –“

“Dean.” Castiel pulled him tighter against him. “You can let your guard down tonight while I’m here… you always can for me.”

His earnest tone struck at Dean’s heart, and obliterated any energy he had to stay awake. In his last few moments of wakefulness, Dean forced out his last few words for the night. “Thanks Cas,” he slurred, “’Love you.”

Castiel paused, resuming his ministrations after a long beat. “I know, Dean,” he said, “I love you, too.”

“Good.” Then, he descended into unconsciousness.

Flick!

Inside his mind, at Rocky’s Bar, Michael kept pounding away. Dean’s eyes drooped closed every so often, each time staying like that longer than he’d like. As if sensing it, Michael rattled his cage harder than he has before. When it seemed like the lock was going to give, Castiel stepped into view. He forced the pin down once more, and then moved to sit beside Dean. Drawing him into his arms, he let Dean’s head rest against his shoulder.

“Let your guard down… you always can for me.”

Dean did willingly, putting his trust in Castiel. With a smile, Dean rested, waiting for when he could wake up and be with his angel once more.

Michael’s yells didn’t bother him tonight.

#Supernatural #Spn #Spn14 #14x14 #Supernatural fanfiction #Spn fanfic #Spn coda #Dean Winchester #Castiel #Destiel #Destiel fanfic #Deancas #deancas fanfic

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breanime · 5 years

Text

Heartworm (Part Seven)

I hope ya’ll realize the strain I’m putting myself through, rewatching Season 2. (I mean, I do skip Dumont’s parts though because even I have my limits). I’m really excited about where this series is headed. Thanks for reading!

*gif by @b-n-a-o*

Billy stared out of the window of Dr. Dumont’s apartment, hands in his pockets. It had been disturbingly easy for him to convince her to let him stay there—it really took no convincing at all. She’d gone to the store to get him a change of clothes, and Billy had gone through her files and records while she did. What he read about himself was… disturbing.

He’d made copies of it all before he packed it away and dropped it off at your place. He needed you to know the truth, too. Needed you to know that he loved you, but that he was…broken. Damaged. Not even Frank loved him anymore, so why should you?

That had been five days ago, and since then, Billy had only been able to gather $3,000 for you from his hidden accounts and contacts. He kept it all in a black duffel bag, but he was reluctant to deliver it to you. It wasn’t enough. He needed to get more, to provide for you before…before he was gone. Because at the end of the day, it would come down to him and Frankie. And only one of them would be able to walk away. The more Billy read (and read and read and re-read) his files, the more he saw that something had broken between Frank and him. Every time he looked in the mirror, or felt a pang of pain in his face, or had a dream about the bloody skull, he felt a surge of hatred go through him. Frank did this to him. His buddy Frank. His brother. Billy stared at his reflection in the window, eyes narrowing as he looked at himself. He was starting to piece together what happened: he let Rawlins use him for money, he used that money to build Anvil, to provide for you, to start your lives together, but Frank wouldn’t let that happen. He had to get in the way, had to start trouble… Billy knew Frank, and he knew Rawlins. Rawlins would have tried to put Frank down, but Billy was certain he hadn’t agreed to be a part of it. Still, according to the files, Maria and the kids ended up dead while Frank got a bullet to the head, and Billy became one of New York’s youngest business owners. Apparently, his reputation proceeded him, because he’d been recognized only three days ago.

Billy had found a nice little dive bar not too far from Dumont’s place that he really liked to go brood at, and it was there that he happened to run into Jake—from Curtis’ therapy group. They got to talking, and it made Billy realize that there were probably a hundred guys like him and Jake—if not more—in the city alone. Guys who had the training, the stomach, and the ability to get shit done. Guys who were sick of being treated like less than they were, guys who were worth their weight in gold, but were only getting scraps. The more he and Jake talked, the more Billy realized…they might be another way to get some cash for you.

Huffing out a breath, Billy turned from the window. He was meeting Jake and some other vets at the bar to discuss some new plans. He’d gotten a portable police scanner, and he kept it on him at all times. So far, the cops had no idea how to find him, and the general consensus from the boys in blue was that Frank was still out of town. Billy went to Curtis’ group sessions every day since he’d left your house, and the more he heard, the more he felt like himself—his old self, the self he remembered…the self you loved. He wanted to be that man for you, but he couldn’t—Frank was getting in the way, Frank had always gotten in the way. If he would have just let Billy do what he had to do to get Anvil on its feet, if he would have just kept his mouth shut and been happy—Billy could have been that man, and Maria and the kids would still be alive. Frank had always been a stubborn son of a bitch, and Billy loved him—but he knew, at the end of the day, it was kill or be killed. And if he was gonna be killed, he’d try his damnest to take Frank down with him. The vets would help him with that… Billy always had a way with words.

“If you were trying to find someone who didn’t want to be found,” you asked, holding a clipboard to your chest, “how would you go about doing it?”

Trish leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. You had cornered her in the sound-room, because Trish was the only person wily enough to ask this kind of question to, and the room was soundproof. “I guess I’d hire a P.I.”

“Let’s say you want to be discreet.”

She smirked. “I know a discreet P.I. But,” she pushed herself off of the door, “I guess if I couldn’t track them down myself, I would do something to get their attention.”

“Yeah?” You asked.

She shrugged. “My, uh, P.I friend can be…prickly,” she smiled, “Sometimes I have to smoke her out of her hole, and the best way to do that, in my experience, is to get into some trouble that only she could get me out of.”

You considered her words. “Huh… and that works?”

“Nine times out of ten,” Trish said back, “But I wouldn’t necessarily recommend it.”

“Right—of course,” you stepped to the side to let Trish pass, “But on an unrelated note: I’m going to need to take some time off.”

Trish stopped, an eyebrow raised. “Y/N,” she said slowly, “what are you planning?”

You shook your head. “Me? Nothing. I think I just need to take some time to get my mind right,” you gave her a reassuring smile, “I won’t do anything too crazy, nothing Trish-level.”

She laughed. “I’m glad to hear that,” she turned back to you, “Take all the time you need.” She stopped, one foot out of the door. “And hey, if you need anything, I’m here. I mean it.”

You smiled. Trish was the best boss you’d ever had. “Thanks, Trish.” She gave you one last smile before walking out, and you sighed. Get into some trouble, huh? You could do that.

That night, you stayed up at your kitchen table and finalized your plans. You had a map of the city, a police radio, Billy’s files, Detective Mahoney’s card and a glass of wine on the table in front of you. You’d gotten the police radio a few nights ago, and you listened to it all night. You’d slept on the couch the first two nights Billy was gone, hoping he’d come through the door so you could kiss him—and maybe smack him—but he never did. After that, you mostly kept it at your bedside, listening intently for any news about Billy or Frank. Apparently, Frank was still M.I.A—you thought the NYPD should really be more discreet about those kinds of things, but oh well. Their incompetence—Detective Mahoney aside—was working for your benefit. You turned the dial up, getting comfortable, and hunkered down. It would only be a matter of time before something concrete came out about Billy, and then you’d make your move. Hopefully, he’d be there to catch you when you jumped. Until then, all you could do was wait.

It was late by the time Curtis finished his last group. Billy had been there, of course, but this time, he wasn’t there for counseling. He had some questions that he needed Curtis’ help answering. Billy had started to fall into a routine: wake up, suffer Dr. Dumont’s tight-lipped smile and probing questions for a while until she left for work, work out, go to group, meet the guys at the bar later, rinse and repeat. If he was feeling especially antsy or anxious, Billy would allow himself 15 minutes to go scope out your place. Your blinds were drawn shut—he figured you were at work most of the time—but just being near the place you lived, being near you, helped him relax. It kept him calm, knowing that everything he was doing was for you. If he couldn’t love you right, he’d try his hardest to at least provide for you. You deserved that much, at least. A few days ago he’d found a gun at Dumont’s place, and he brought it with him—and his damn “art therapy” mask—and waited in the parking garage for Curtis. He watched, detached yet nervous, as Curtis walked to his car, threw his bag in the back seat, and shut the door. Billy stepped out from the shadows, gun in the air, and pointed it at the back of his friend’s head.

Curtis froze, and Billy knew he was considering fighting back. “Don’t even think about it,” Billy said, his voice only slightly muffled by the mask, “Eject the magazine.” Curtis did as he was told. “Round too.” Billy licked his lips under the mask. Since when did Curt carry a weapon on him stateside? Was that…was that cause of him? Curtis’ eyes were heavy—tired, Billy thought—when he turned around to face him. He held his now empty gun in his hand, dangling between his fingers. “That because of me?” Billy asked—no reason to be coy.

Curtis gave a short nod.

Billy sucked in a breath. It was like taking a hit to the face, to see that look in Curtis’ eye directed towards him, to know that he carried a gun on the off-chance he’d have to use it as a defense against Billy—his friend. His brother. How could things have gotten so fucked up? Even if Billy betrayed Frank—which he did, he knew he did—what was the final straw that caused him Curtis’ love too? He exhaled, reminding himself to keep his composure. This is for Y/N. To show that he wasn’t there to hurt Curt, Billy put his gun down and was rewarded with Curtis putting his hands down and relaxing a little bit, too. Good. Time to try out some out that open honesty that Curt was always preaching in his sessions. “Lawyers told me that I shot you,” Billy said, “And I don’t…” He almost choked on his words. Why was this so hard? “I don’t remember that,” he took another shaky breath, “I wanted to call you, after I found out… Say… Say…something. I know you came to visit me once,” he went on, trying to piece together his memories from the hospital through a pharmaceutical-filled haze. He could remember knowing Curtis was there, even though the other man hadn’t said much, and he remembered wanting to tell him “I’m sorry, brother. I love you, brother”, and never being able to. He remembered crying himself to sleep, strapped to the hospital bed with his damn white mask over his face. Billy breathed in and out before continuing. He had to say this—if nothing else, he had to get these next words out. “Would you believe me if I told you that I was sorry?”

“Sorry enough to turn yourself in and pay for it?” Curtis asked, shoulders and words stiff.

Billy laughed, tasting tears in his throat. He never thought he’d be on the receiving end of this kind of glare from Curtis. He could feel the hatred rolling off of the other man in waves. It was terrifying. It was devasting. He looked away—at the grey, cracked walls, the dark concrete, trying to keep his shit together. Pay for it. Billy had nothing. He’d lost his business, lost his credibility, his assets, lost his reputation—he lost you, and Frank, and Curt. Hell, you were only a few blocks away from where he was staying, but it might as well been the moon you were on. That’s how much he’d lost you. How could you love him after what he’d done? After he’d neglected you and lied to you? After this—after his fall so damn far from grace? How could you ever want to be with a man like him again? A man who—who looked like him. Billy chuckled again, no humor in his voice, as he looked back up at Curtis. “Oh,” he said, reaching up to push his hood down, “Ohhh, I paid already.” He grabbed the bottom of his mask and slid it up to his forehead, showing Curtis the toll he’d paid. “Don’t you think?” He watched the disgust flash through Curtis’ face, followed by a look of morbid shock. “I’m never going back, Curtis; so anyone who comes at me: it will be all or nothing, do you hear me? Now a little birdie,” he said, thinking of Jake, “told me that you’ve been asking about me.” He stabbed a finger into the side of his face. “And man, in here… In here, me and you,” he said, feeling himself getting riled up and unable to stop it, “we’re still brothers, man, so…” His voice shook. “All—all this,” he gestured at the gap between the two of them with his gun, baring his teeth like a wounded animal, “this is hard for me, y’know? Now I need you to tell me,” he took a few steps towards Curtis, body tense, “how did this happen to me?” He shook his head, watching Curtis get ready to tell a lie, to protect Frank. “Mm? HOW DID THIS HAPPEN TO ME? Just—just tell me…who…did this to me, man?”

Curtis looked away, eyes shining with unshed tears just like Billy’s were. He licked his lips, moistening them for a lie, Billy knew. “I wish… I wish I could tell you, Billy.”

Billy’s heart broke. He stared at Curtis, at his friend, as he lied right to his face. Billy felt the first tear trail down his cheek and did nothing to stop it. He wanted Curt to just tell him the truth, just say the words: “Frank did this to you”. But he knew he wouldn’t—fuck, Billy knew this was a fruitless endeavor when he first came up with it. He knew Curtis would never betray Frank, it was one of the reasons he loved him so much: Curtis was loyal. Billy backed up, hands up. “I was never gonna hurt you, man,” he said, pulling his mask back down. He moved to turn away.

“Wait—” Curtis called out.

Billy stopped. His heart was pounding.

“Wh—what’s your game, man?” Curtis asked, “What’s the endgame here? You gonna, what, break into my place again? Shoot me in my good leg, like you said?”

Billy hated himself. But he wasn’t going to lie to him. “Like I said, anyone who comes at me…”

“…all or nothing,” Curtis finished for him grimly.

Billy smiled under his mask, despite himself. “All or nothing,” he agreed. He licked his lips. “I meant what I said, Curt. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to. You understand? I don’t want to, but I will.” He stared at Curtis for another few seconds before turning and walking away.

Billy heard Curtis’ relieved sigh as he disappeared into the shadows.

The next night, across town, you were taking a little disco nap at the table when you were jolted awake. You sat up so fast that you knocked over your empty wine glass. You ignored the broken shards and turned up the dial on the police radio. “Confirmed sighting of Billy Russo” was all you needed to hear before you were on your feet, scribbling down every word they said that had anything to do with Billy. The information was coming quickly, and it was a lot to take in. Billy had cornered Curtis at his job? And—whoa, he had carjacked some tow truck not even an hour ago. You stood up, grabbing your purse. Who else could it be? Billy had been sighted a few miles away at Curtis’, and then some tow truck had been hijacked by a masked man and a bunch of guys wearing army fatigue jackets? You listened to the address and grinned—it was in a bad neighborhood in the middle of the night. Perfect.

You would get Billy’s attention one way or another—or die trying.

*****************************************************************************************

Aw damn! I am so so stoked for the next chapter! Please comment what you think of this one, you know your feedback really means a lot to me! Thanks for reading, guys!

TAGLIST: @floralpeaceofmind @delicatelilyflower @dylanobrusso @ladyblablabla @banditthewriter @something-tofightfor @starsfragments @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @hisgirlwednesdayaddams@fictionwillneverdie @maria-beretta @sadnessxvodka @ymariejp @sunnycolors @moonlightsay @its-all-o-kay @damagelove @keyeluh @itsmylife98 @funerals-with-cake @littlemermaidprobz @teacuplotus @king4thesirens @mrsjaxtellerfan @thebabblingbook @tartelette-aux-fraises @madamrogers @charlylama @iaintnofurry @k-buggz2001 @whitewolfslittlesilverfox @drinix @elanor-of-imladris @blah-blah-fuckit-shit @julliiaaq @holamor @ymariejp @shadowhunterscloset @songtoyou @anabella-baby @sssilverssserpent @heyitslexy @luminex3

I hope I didn’t forget anyone! If you want to be added to this series’ taglist, please let me know!

#billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #heartworm #the punisher

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tiaraofsapphires · 5 years

Text

Rebelcaptain Appreciation Week: Day 2

Writing Prompt: Leap

He was avoiding her, that much was clear.

They had gotten too close to each other, drawn to each other like opposite poles of a magnet. Almost dying together on Scarif, surviving the suicide mission, drew them apart.

Or, drew him away from her, she thought glumly as she watched his retreating back, his refusal to sit with her and their comrades in the mess ringing dully in her ears.

Chirrut smiled, milky eyes fixed on hers. “Our Captain is full of conflict.”

“Full of himself, maybe,” Baze grumbled, “These officers all walk around with sticks up their—"

Bodhi cleared his throat and interjected, “Yes, well, I’m sure Cassian is a busy man.”

Jyn hummed, nodding at the worried glance Bodhi shot her.

Bodhi knew enough. Jyn had revealed to him the pain and desire, after a couple cups of cheap booze. He had patted her shoulder as she wallowed a little in her sorrow.

She told him about how she had felt, what had happened at the records tower. The climb, Krennic, and the elevator ride.

They were things that haunted her nightmares and blessed her dreams and she wanted to know that Cassian felt the same way.

Nearly dying on Scarif and the flight back and the recovering in med bay had brought the rest of them together. Their days had been filled with bandages and bacta and pain and they had a sense of humor about it.

Cassian had been quiet, isolated, in his little corner. He winced when Baze’s laugh boomed through the room.

The others left him alone, though Jyn’s eyes glanced often towards him, expectant that he would come to them, to her.

“I think—”

“That’s new.”

Bodhi snorted a laugh into his cup of water while Chirrut gave Baze a glare.

“I believe that our Captain is haunted by many things. Our battles have been long and arduous, but his goes on even when the blasters have stopped firing.”

Jyn chewed on the inside of her cheek. He was spy, killer, hero.

“What should I do?” she wondered aloud.

“Jump his bones,” Baze suggested, ignoring the elbow Chirrut threw into his side.

Jyn felt her cheeks heat up and she ducked into her food.

“You should talk to him.”

That seemed like the most obvious answer. But, how could she talk to someone who never stayed still when she was anywhere close to him.

She glanced out the window and stood up, taking her tray into her hands. “Fine. I can do that.”

“Wait, right now?” Bodhi asked, shocked that his advice would immediately be followed.

She turned in her used dishes and made her way into the barracks.

Cassian was an officer, so he got his own room. It felt scandalously private, that she was looking for him in his room. The Rebels loved gossip, one of the few luxuries allowed in a war, and this would be prime for the rumor mill if anyone saw and connected the dots between her and him. It wouldn’t be too far a reach.

There was also the chance she would be wallowing in front of his room because he had taken a detour to the comms tower or the shooting range.

Cassian unintentionally spared her that fate, walking from the opposite side of the hallway. His steps slowed as he got closer.

“Lieutenant Erso,” came the curt greeting.

That wasn’t a good sign. There wasn’t even a smile on his face.

“Cassian,” she replied.

The use of his name seemed to short-circuit his brain for a moment. She almost thought to call him K2.

“Is there something to require?”

‘Require’ was one way to put it. Word vomit rose in her throat, but she swallowed it back.

“I wanted to talk to you. It seems, to me, the dynamic between the two of us might affect us on the battlefield.”

He blinked at her, guilt flashing for a moment across his face before schooling to a blank.

“I don't see what you’re talking about.”

Frustration at his delicate avoidance of the topic grated on her nerves. “Come on, Cassian, really?”

“I treat you the same as I would anyone else.”

Jyn shook her head, stepping forward. “You don't talk to me outside of the war room. You avoid me like I have the plague. You won’t even—"

Her words stuttered for a beat, watching as his eyes had glazed, gazing just up and over her shoulder.

“Look at me.” The words were harsher and more snappish than she intended, but immediately Cassian’s eyes snapped to hers.

“I’m not avoiding you, Jyn.”

His eyes shift again. Liar.

“You talk to Bodhi and Baze and Chirrut. Hell, you talk to Draven more than you talk to me.”

They both fell silent.

“After Scarif, I thought—"

“Thought what?” he asked.

Jyn opened her mouth and shut it again. What could she say?

She wanted to be friends, but she wanted more than that. She wanted, but she didn't know if Cassian wanted the same, even close to the same.

How could she know if she didn't ask? How could she even ask?

The answer to that seemed as simple as the one that brought her to this moment.

A leap of faith. Whether this worked or didn't, she would find out.

She stepped forward, encroaching on his space. Her hand came up and cupped the back of his neck, pulling him down towards her.

Their mouths met, close-lipped and dry and warm. Impersonal, but Jyn waded in it, grasped for that little moment before the rejection would inevitably come. It had to do. In this life, she couldn’t wait for the perfect time or to wade out the mood Cassian seemed to permanently wallow in.

Her heartbeat sounded so loud in her ears she was sure Cassian could hear it too.

He had stiffened almost instantly at her touch, but she couldn't consider that as a completely bad sign. He was a master assassin. He could've knocked her flat on her ass in a moment, but he stayed shock-still, save for the flare in his nostrils as he took a sharp breath.

They separated with a barely-there noise and Jyn could only hope that she didn't burn the rickety bridge that stood between them.

“Why did you do that?” Cassian asked. His voice was flat, but there was something there that was slightly wild and breathy, struggling to come to the surface.

Jyn couldn’t quite hide the wince from the question. It wasn’t exactly something she wanted to hear after kissing someone, but he at least wasn’t running from her like usual.

“It felt like the right thing to do.”

A blank gaze followed her words and she mentally reeled back, regretting that she had left the mess hall to find him.

Stupid fool, she thought. She had ruined everything.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“For what?”

“For avoiding you. Believe me, it was the last thing I wanted to do.”

The icy rock of fear melted a little in her chest.

“We should start again,” she murmured.

Cassian nodded and then asked, “Start from where?”

Jyn shrugged, “Well, starting with a kiss was a pretty good start.”

The tiny smile that bloomed on his face made her feel like maybe he hadn’t left all his possible affection he had for her on that elevator.

“I think you’re right.”

He didn't need to move too far to kiss her, this time pressing a little harder, breathing her in.

Later, with a kiss-drunk grin on her face, Jyn would think back to the icy feeling of fear and know it was worth it.

#rebelcaptainweek #rebelcaptain #therebelcaptainnetwork #jyn erso #cassian andor #rogue one #star wars #my fic #my fics

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day One Hundred Seventy-Six: Show No Fear ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, blood, gore ] [ Verse: Divine Light ] [ AO3 Link ]

Though not one of the land’s monster hunters, Sasuke’s come face to face with a beast or two in his time. While nothing’s ever been a true terror - a gryphon, or an ogre, for example - he’s whetted his blade with beastly blood more than once.

He’d considered doing so on contract before setting out with his current band of companions. A way to make some coin to help his family, perhaps find a decent herbalist or medic for his brother. He’s been skilled with a blade since young, and a bow too when the time calls for it. Add in his igni bloodline, and he’s a formidable foe for many a creature: even those with ven like his own.

But instead, he’s been traveling with a group of other ven wielders: his brother, a lux mage to heal him, and an aqua mage. All in order to get back to the abandoned capital of the lands once claimed by the disciples of Luxeria.

And their travels haven’t been all a cake walk. Not by any means. Bandits plague the roads, cities are hosts of dangers, and even beasts have taken the odd shot at them. Mostly common creatures like wolves or bears, but regardless, each is a threat in its own right. Itachi attempts to aid him, but his lingering illness stunts his stamina and strength. The light elf has mighty defenses, but...no real way to attack. Nor does she want to, given her deity’s call for nonviolence.

That leaves the water mage. He’s been slowly teaching her about their elemental energies and how to harness them, but her actual experience is still lacking. Much to her chagrin.

“What about a blade?”

“What?”

“Can you teach me to wield a blade?”

Sasuke perks a dark brow at her. “...do you really want to?”

“Well I need some way to defend myself in the meantime, until I can better call upon water!”

That earns a snort. “It will take just as long to learn swordplay. There’s no easy path, Hinata. No shortcuts.”

“Then I just need more training!”

“I’ve been teaching you as much as I can. But travel makes us all weary, and we can’t get overly tired. If a threat shows up -”

“You need to be ready, I know, I know…” She huffs a curt breath. “...I still managed to slay that ogre.”

“That was a stroke of luck.”

“No it wasn’t!”

“Yes, it was. Are you telling me you feel like you could do that again and again without fail? No mistakes? No hesitation?”

Her pause is telling enough.

“...you need more training before you can take more of a mantle in the group’s defense.”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

“I can’t give you more time than I already am, Hinata. It’s all limited. Time, energy, safety to sit and frolic with magic. I appreciate the want to help, but I can handle it.”

That earns him a cold shoulder that night, everyone too tired to spare time for training, saved instead for taking watches.

The next time they do manage to set aside some time to practice, she’s steely-faced and determined, listening with rapt attention. At first, he can’t help but be a little amused. Seeing Hinata so...serious is a far cry from her typical character. Sure, she can be stubborn...but this is a whole new level.

...she really does want to master her element.

Half an hour into their lesson, taking a break for water, Sasuke holds up a hand to beg for silence. Keen eyes of red flicker to the nearby treeline, pointed ears perking with attention.

Something is out there.

The pair hold completely still, listening. At first...nothing. But then a twig snaps, and their eyes both flicker to the sound. Two orbs glow in the shadows of the boughs, watching them.

“...don’t panic,” he murmurs, moving slowly to set aside his canteen. Instead, he grips the hilt of his blade. “Show no fear. If we hesitate...it will attack.” He still can’t yet see whatever’s lurking in the wood, but his gut tells him it’s nothing friendly.

“...what should I do?”

“Be prepared to run. I’ll distract it.”

“But- ?”

“But...nothing. Do as I say, Hinata.”

For a moment she swells in indignation, but pauses as a low hiss echoes from between the trunks. Then there’s a rustle. That’s got to be scales...a few different beasts flicker through his mind, but what emerges isn’t among them.

Twelve above...it’s a naga.

Serpentine body slithering across the grass, she gives another hiss, jaw hanging open to an unsettling degree: unhinged and waiting to sink fangs into their flesh. Claw-tipped fingers spread, reaching eagerly. It’s clear enough: she’s risking a confrontation in the hopes of a meal.

Sasuke’s grip tightens on the hilt of his blade, drawn to his front and glinting in the fading afternoon sun. “...get back to camp. Warn the others. I’ll try to stop it here.”

“I can help -!”

“Yeah, you can. By going back.”

Body winding, the naga tenses before using the tightened muscles to spring across the remaining distance. The mages leap apart, forcing her attention to split...but not for long. Loosing a volley of fire, Sasuke draws her gaze to him with a taunt.

“This way! Your business is with me, monster…!” Even now he doesn’t succumb to any fear, staring into the beast’s eyes with a glower of his own.

Giving another hiss, she makes to loom toward him, only to screech, back tensing. Behind her, wielding water like a whip, Hinata drives the element against her back. As the monster turns, Sasuke gets a view of the nasty welt along the skin of her human torso.

Does this woman never listen to him?! Ever?!

Spewing oaths under his breath, he trades his blade for his bow, setting the string and nocking an arrow. One zings through the air, skimming his enemy’s arm and earning a cry.

The next bolt, drawn quickly, whizzes past her head as she lowers to the ground, sliding along both bellies toward him with alarming speed. Sasuke throws his bow over his shoulder, drawing a dagger at his hip. He counters several slashes of her deadly claws, swiping at her face in an attempt to drive her back.

“Hey!”

Hinata’s cry goes ignored...until a tug yanks the naga backward. Water encases the lower third of her tail, guided by Hinata’s ven. Teeth grit in a snarl, she gives a mighty roar, every ounce of her strength whipping the creature back over. Hands attempt to slow her movement, but the naga is hurtled against a tree, spine concussed around the trunk and knocking the wind from her.

Taking his chance, Sasuke draws his bow once more, firing a bolt. It lands dead center in her gut, an ear-splitting shriek cutting through the air. Ignoring it, he follows up several more until she goes limp.

The mortal pair pant, Hinata making to cautiously approach.

“Don’t.”

Looking back, she watches him draw his sword.

“...kill a snake, and it can still bite.” Aiming his blade, he decapitates the creature with one swift strike.

The jaw gives several searching bites, uttering a last hiss before going still.

Hinata stares in horror.

Clearing the gore from his weapon, Sasuke then retrieves his arrows and does the same with their heads before tucking everything back into place. “...what part of ‘run’ do you not understand?”

“I saved you. Again. When are you going to stop doubting me?” Hinata counters, exasperated. “I might be a novice, but it’s clear I’m doing s-something right!”

Sheathing his sword, Sasuke scowls. “...you still lack experience. Which means you lack the knowledge to predict a fight well enough to last in one for long. One wrong move, and you could be dead.”

“And how else can I garner experience than by fighting?”

“A naga is not a beginner’s foe!”

“Well we handled it, didn’t we?”

He breathes a curt sigh through his nose, ears pinning. “...you don’t need to throw yourself into every lick of danger. There’s a difference between showing no fear, and disregarding it completely. Fear isn’t something to ignore - it’s something to temper. Being wary will keep you alive. Acting as though you have nothing to lose? Nothing to fear? Is a surefire way to end up dead.”

“...but I wasn’t afraid.”

“And why not?”

She stares at him. “...because you were with me.”

That...leaves him without a retort.

Seeing as much, Hinata moves to collect her gear. “...we better head back. We’ll need rest after...all of that. And we need to make sure the others are okay. There might be something else skulking around wanting to k-kill us.”

Watching her incredulously, Sasuke just shakes his head...and follows.

.oOo.

Looong day, so I'll be brief. More of my original fantasy verse! A random, middle-of-the-story one. That verse hasn't really been in any particular order like some of the others...whoops. Just some random training between mages, no big deal. It's just a naga. No biggie. Nobody got hurt, so...win-win, right? C'mon, Sasuke: stop being such a stick in the mud lol Anywho...that's all I've got, aha~ Thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #blood //#gore //#divine light [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

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bromfieldhall · 5 years

Text

101 Days of Captain Swan - Day 50 - CS Fanfic

Read from the beginning on FF.Net or AO3 or

Day 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49,

For @deathbycaptainswan and Guest

My thanks to @csmarchmadness for getting me to write something after nearly two years! Hope you all like it.

011:"May I have this dance?"

“Stop fidgeting, little brother, or do you wish everyone in the room to suspect that this is your first time attending a royal ball?”

“Do not call me little brother,” Killian countered irritably. “And I’m not a bloody child, Liam – I don’t fidget, especially at the prospect of some dancing, royal or not.”

In blatant contradiction of his claim, Killian tugged his pristine white vest down a little then adjusted his blue naval jacket. Twice.

“Maybe it’s the prospect of seeing your mystery woman again that has you preening yourself then?” his brother suggested in obvious amusement.

Killian’s head snapped around at that remark and Liam was quite certain that if looks could kill, he would be well and truly dead.

“I knew I would regret telling you,” the younger man muttered in annoyance. He looked away and scanned the near to full ballroom. “Not that it matters. The lady is clearly not coming.”

Liam frowned at his brother’s pessimism and placed a hand on his shoulder, causing the younger man to turn back to him.

“Come now, the Princess has yet to be announced and they’ll only do that when everyone has arrived. So until then, there is still hope. Right, brother?”

Killian gazed at him a moment then finally smiled a little and gave a curt nod.

“Aye. I suppose you’re right.”

“And if she doesn’t come, well then, there are many other women here who are very pleasing to the eye, are there not?” the older man continued helpfully.

Killian’s mouth tightened at that, but he kept his smile in place. How could he possibly explain to Liam that he had no interest in looking at anyone other than her when he couldn’t even explain it to himself?

When they’d docked that morning, he’d had no idea that his world would be turned upside down a mere few hours later.

Having finally scraped together enough money for commissions in the navy, he and Liam had worked tirelessly through the ranks. And now, here they were, on their first assignment as captain and lieutenant respectively. They had put into port to replenish supplies and had discovered that the princess of the realm was having a ball to celebrate her twenty first birthday. Naturally, Liam had taken the opportunity to attend the palace and offer a token of respect in the name of their King. Diplomacy was always one of his strong points and he knew it might pave the way for any alliances in the future should their own realm ever need it.

The princess had been with her parents when he’d been granted an audience that morning and presented the gift of fine perfume blended from sweetly fragrant flowers found only in their realm. She’d been so delighted with it, that she had invited him and his officers to her ball that evening.

Unfortunately, his news hadn’t been met with much enthusiasm from his brother. Killian had protested at what he saw as wasting time with ‘frivolities’ when they should be continuing with their mission.

With Liam being stubborn in his decision, however, he’d pulled rank and Killian had been forced to concede. Unhappy with his lot, he’d requested some time ashore through gritted teeth and had stalked off the moment his brother had nodded his assent.

The town had been a surprisingly bustling place, certainly larger than he’d expected. There was many a pedlar selling their wares, but there had been one in particular, set a little apart from the others, that had really caught his eye.

Flowers had adorned the seller’s stall, those clearly being the main source of income, and to the side there was a small table upon which sat a neatly laid out selection of books.

Eagerly, he’d walked over, only to feel a dart of disappointment when he’d seen that they’d made up a makeshift library of sorts. With a long voyage ahead of him, he’d hoped that he could have purchased a book to keep him entertained during the rare times he was off duty.

Still, as he’d perused the titles, he’d found himself drawn to one with a piratical theme in spite of himself.

“Do you want to borrow that?”

He’d looked up at the softly spoken question and felt his heart miss a beat at the vision before him. Simply dressed though she was, the young woman’s beauty was beyond compare. Long golden hair, softly curving lips, high cheekbones and green eyes that, he’d belatedly realised, gazed expectantly back at him as she’d waited for a reply.

“Uh...no...thank you,” he’d stuttered awkwardly and shut the book with a snap before placing it back on the table.

“Are you sure?” she’d pressed in faint amusement. “You’ve been reading it for the past ten minutes. Surely you must want to know how it ends?”

“Aye, Milady, I do,” he’d admitted with a rueful smile - and a fair blush if the heat he’d felt in his cheeks was anything to go by. “But I’m sailing on the early tide in the morning and our voyage is a long one. Much longer than the time you’d allow for me to borrow that book, I’d wager.”

“Oh, what a pity,” she’d stated, moving a couple of steps closer to him, a faint frown marring her features.

“That I won’t know how it ends – or that I’m sailing tomorrow?” he’d countered without thinking.

She’d raised a brow at his bluntness and he’d almost taken the words back in a stuttering apology. He’d never been so forward with a lady before - but it seemed that he hadn’t offended as he’d feared because she’d suddenly let out a delighted laugh.

“I think before I answer that, I should at least know your name.”

He’d given it gladly and now, as he stood in the ballroom, thinking back over the rest of the afternoon, the realisation that she’d never actually revealed her own was more frustrating than ever.

Frowning a little, he refused a glass of wine that a passing servant paused to offer and glanced around the crowded hall, searching out the woman he was dearly hoping to see again. It’d only been when he’d spoken of his encounter to Liam that it’d hit him how skillfully she’d managed to avoid answering anything remotely personal about herself.

“Sensible woman,” his brother had teased with a chuckle.

Now, as Killian scanned the faces of the ever growing throng of people, he couldn’t help wonder if maybe Liam was right. Increasingly it was becoming clear that, enchanted though he had been of her, her failure to appear meant that she obviously hadn’t been quite so enamoured of him.

Her lack of revealing anything about herself should have been a clue, he realised grimly.

And yet...it was she that had made a point of asking what he was doing that evening.

He knew he hadn’t imagined her look of disappointment, fleeting though it was, when he’d admitted that he had a prior engagement at the ball.

“Personally I think it a waste of time,” he’d told her, even more annoyed than before that duty dictated he attend when he’d rather have tried to arrange to meet with her again.

“The ball or the princess?” she’d queried wryly, a gleam of sudden amusement dancing in her eyes as she’d echoed his earlier retort.

He should have asked for her name then. Instead, he’d muttered an aggrieved, “Both. I do not like to dance and have no desire in pandering to a lady I have not even met, royalty and diplomacy be hanged!”

A silence had met his outburst but when he’d looked back up at her, much to his chagrin, she’d been openly grinning at him. Consternation had turned to delight though, when she’d revealed that the entire town had been invited too.

“So you’ll be there tonight?” he’d clarified, the evening taking on a more appealing light,

“Only if you promise to dance with me,” she’d replied, that mischievous glint back in her eyes.

Despite his assertion of not liking it only moments earlier, he’d agreed at once, fairly certain that he could have been persuaded to do just about anything as far as the lady in front of him was concerned.

And yet here he was and she...she was nowhere to be seen.

The noisy chatter of the crowd suddenly faded to silence around him and Killian’s stomach fell as he realised what that meant.

The princess had arrived.

His brother shifted at his side and he gave him a cursory glance. A small smile conveyed Liam’s commiseration and Killian looked away. The disappointment was acute. So much so that he barely even registered the lofty announcement of, “Princess Emma of Misthaven,” that rang out around the ballroom.

Head bowed, he inwardly cursed his own idiocy for having believed that they’d shared some kind of instant connection. A mutual flare of feeling that couldn’t be denied. What the hell had he been thinking? This wasn’t some fairytale, this was real life. His life. That simple fact alone should have been enough to remind him that it was never going to end in his favour.

He was so caught up in his own personal torment that it took him a few seconds to register the sharp, urgent nudge to his side where Liam had elbowed him none too lightly.

“Killian,” he growled out the corner of his mouth in low warning.

His head snapped up and he shot his brother a glare.

“What the…,” he began angrily.

“May I have this dance, Lieutenant?” cut in a warm female voice suddenly.

Abruptly, all his anger evaporated as he swallowed hard and turned his head to behold the vision in front of him. Heart pounding, his mouth fell open in surprise.

It was her.

And she was a princess?

He blinked.

Liam cleared his throat...loudly.

Emma’s hopeful smile began to waver…

Finally gathering his wits, he quickly stepped forward and gave a courteous bow then took her proffered hand. A hand that he’d kissed so fervently not four hours ago when he’d taken his leave of her to go back to the ship. His lips began to tingle just at the thought of it and he’d known by the flush on her face that she’d been just as affected by the normally perfunctory gesture as he.

“It would be my honour, Your Royal Highness,” he accepted formally.

As he escorted her out into the middle of the room, the other guests moved out of their way, allowing them space. Killian didn’t even notice. His entire focus was on the beauty that he held in his arms. In her stunning red ballgown and with her long, blonde hair swept up into a smooth chignon, she simply took his breath away.

The first strains of violins filled the air and they began to move.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was this afternoon,” she apologised softly after they’d danced in silence for far longer than she’d liked. After his initial surprise, he’d schooled his features into a polite deference as was the norm when it came to her rank and she had no clue as to whether he was angry, happy or simply uncaring about her deception. She needed to know. “It was nice just being me for a short while and you were so easy to talk to, Killian. Easier than it’s ever been with anyone else and I thought that you...that we…,” she broke off and shrugged helplessly before adding, “I didn’t want that to change just because of a title.” She stared at him, trying to find a flicker of some emotion that would tell her either way a little of what he was feeling. “Has it?” she asked barely above a whisper.

Seeing the uncertainty that lurked in her eyes as she looked up at him, he frowned slightly. It dawned on him then that she’d misconstrued his dazed silence as some kind of detriment to herself. In truth, he’d been finding hard to find the words to convey how he was feeling. She was here, with him, that was all that mattered. And crazy though it was, because they barely knew each other, from what he’d gleaned from her hesitant words, she must have felt that same connection from the very first as he had.

He pulled her a little closer, not enough to be disrespectful to her position but enough that she knew that nothing had changed.

“How can I possibly in good conscience condemn you for not telling the whole truth when I am guilty of the exact same thing myself?” he told her in a wry tone.

“You?” she queried, her eyes widening a little in surprise.

“Aye, me,” he confirmed with a nod. “You may remember that I told you that I didn’t like to dance,” he continued, mirth threading his low tone as he suddenly grinned down at her, “Well, I find that dancing with you makes a complete liar out of me.”

Emma stared at him a moment then let out a delighted laugh.

“So this evening hasn’t been as much of a chore as you thought it was going to be then?”

“Not even remotely,” he assured her as the music, and their dance, came to an end.

“Will you save me a second dance, Lieutenant?” she asked as he straightened from the customary bow that finalised all dances.

“Aye, Your Highness,” he replied with a nod. “Gladly.”

As it turned out, Killian ‘saved’ her a further four dances in total and when the night came to an end, Emma asked him to accompany her to the library before he left.

“I have something for you,” she told him, running her finger along the spines of a row of books, searching out a particular volume. “Here!” Turning to him with a triumphant grin, she held out a small, familiar looking novel to him. “I thought you might want to finish it.”

Killian reached for the book, his heart skipping a beat as his fingers brushed lightly against hers. Glancing at the title, he saw that it was the one he’d been reading that afternoon. Touched at her thoughtfulness, he looked up at her with a soft smile and took an involuntary step closer to where she stood.

“Thank you, Your Highness, I shall treasure it always.”

“Emma,” she corrected him, also moving closer, “You can call me, Emma, and it wasn’t a gift, Killian, I expect you to return it to me after your voyage.” Another step brought her almost toe to toe with him and she reached out to clasp his free hand before adding a little breathlessly, “In person.”

This time his heart started to race. There was no mistaking what she was telling him and even if he were unsure, just one look into her eyes told him more than any words ever could exactly how she felt.

“Are you...sure that you’re willing to wait that long?” he asked huskily.

“I am. I will,” she promised then leaned toward him, face upturned, mouth slightly parted in mute invitation.

Without hesitation, he bent to place his lips on hers. Gently at first, their kiss soon deepened, the book falling from his hand as he drew her into his arms pulling her flush against him. They were both breathing heavily by the time they parted, the strength of their passion evident in the flush of their cheeks and the way they swayed together, foreheads touching.

Killian forced himself to let her go and take a step back. He had to leave, though it pained him to do so. How could it be that he’d fallen in love with this woman so quickly? Because he knew without a shadow of a doubt, that he had.

Irrevocably.

Completely.

“I have to go,” he told her regretfully before stooping to pick up the book.

She nodded, tears shimmering in her eyes.

“Stay safe, Killian.”

Unable to go without one last kiss, he grasped her hand and tugged her towards him gently. It was lingering and sweet and when he pulled back he assured her intently, “I will come back to you, Emma, and not just because of this book.”

He turned and left then. One more moment in her presence and he was afraid that he wouldn’t have it in him to leave at all.

Liam was waiting for him at the palace gates and together they took a carriage to the docks. They rode in silence, although Killian felt his brother’s curious gaze upon him more than once, but it wasn’t until they were back aboard ship that he finally asked him about Emma.

“Do you love her?” Liam queried once he’d finished speaking.

“Aye, I do,” Killian answered with a certainty that made his brother smile.

“Let us make sure that you return that book in a timely fashion then,” Liam stated with purpose.

Eight months later, Killian exited the private chambers of the King and Queen of Misthaven with the treasured book in one hand, his other resting lightly upon the hilt of his sword. Dressed entirely in black, he was no longer a part of the navy to which he’d once so longed to belong.

Their mission had been a spectacular failure, one that had nearly cost Liam his life. Thankfully, Killian had realised that the magical plant they were supposed to bring home to their King was, in fact, deadly. One of their crew members had accidentally cut themselves on it only moments before Liam had reached out to grab some himself.

As he saw the black toxin spreading rapidly through the man’s veins, he’d ran and knocked Liam down before the same thing could happen to him. It had been a near miss and when the brothers had spoken of it afterwards, they’d both agreed that they could not continue to be loyal to a man that would use such an evil poison against his enemies.

That very day they’d commandeered the ‘Jewel of the Realm’, spoken to their crew and had tossed aside their uniforms forever. Any man that didn’t wish to join them were put ashore at the next port and then they’d began the journey back to Misthaven.

Once there, they’d immediately sent word to the castle, requesting an urgent audience with the King and Queen. Free agents now that they were, they’d offered to serve as privateers to the realm and pledge allegiance to Misthaven.

The royals had agreed and asked them to return the next day to sign appropriate papers. The brothers had bowed reverently, then Queen Snow had addressed Killian directly.

“I suspect there is also another reason for your visit today, Mr Jones,” she remarked, gazing pointedly at the book he held and then back to his lightly reddening face.

“Aye, Your Majesty,” he confessed, plucking self consciously at his shirt and standing up a little straighter. “I would like permission to speak with your daughter. She kindly leant me her book and asked that I return it. Personally.”

“Emma has spoken of it to me frequently over the past few months,” she revealed in wry amusement. “I believe she is quite desperate to see her book again and know that it is safe, so you’d better make haste to the gardens. She was heading towards the blue arbor near the great oak when I saw her last.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he replied, bowing low again before shooting a triumphant grin at Liam then turning and almost running out of the room.

She hadn’t forgotten him...

The sun burned bright in the sky as he hurried out into the gardens. He saw a tall oak tree in the distance and headed purposefully in its direction. As he got closer, he could see Emma sitting with her back to him, a soft breeze gently lifting the tendrils of her golden locks as she stared out across the rolling hills that lay beyond the palace walls. Grass underfoot deadened the sound of his footsteps and he was able to approach unannounced. A few feet from the arbor he stopped and simply stared at her for a moment, drinking in the sight of the woman that was so dear to his heart.

“I’ve brought your book back, Your Highness,” he finally said, unable to conceal the slight unsteadiness of his voice.

He saw her stiffen then she turned and stood up abruptly, staring at him with such hope and such dawning joy. Such...love.

“Emma,” she reminded him softly, a solitary tear tracking slowly down her cheek, “You can call me, Emma.”

“Emma,” he murmured huskily and then she was in his arms.

He didn’t know who had moved first, he didn’t care. They hugged each other tightly, then shared kiss after kiss after kiss, whispering words of love and promises of a future together.

They were married two months later and the Best Man was pleased to note that during the ceremony, his little brother didn’t fidget once.

Send me a number from my blog!!

#cs march madness #101 days of cs #cs ff #cs fluff #cs romance

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theunredeemable · 5 years

Text

Stealing the Rich

Chapter one: Paradise Rent Asunder

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17954645/chapters/42404279

Winter's heels echoed down the halls of The Nevermore as she made her way towards the bridge of the colossal battleship. She kept her hands clasped behind her back, her face a perfectly neutral as she marshalled her emotions. Passing various crewmen seeing to mundane, yet important tasks, she paid them little heed. Each saluted her as they passed, their closed fist slamming into their chest above their heart, before resuming their duties.

Winter thought back to the time she had been in their shoes, saluting to superior officers that didn't even know she existed as they passed. She remembered how hard she had fought in ship to ship battles to prove her worth of climbing up the chain of command. Of how she checked and tripled check every task given to her, for one mistake was the difference between promotion or floating lifeless in the void of space.

Pausing in the middle of a walkway, she unclasped her hands to rest them against the rails as she looked down into the hanger bay. The Nevermore's crew was hard at work. Overseeing the final checks and testing, Chief Engineer Coal stalked the bay, pausing to make notes on a data-slate and chastise a new recruit's mistake. Winter could just make out the conversation he was having with Lead Equipment and Vehicle Engineer Katt from her vantage point. Coal let out a whistle as the last of the new fighters were loaded onto the ship. “Damn, those Schnee's certainly know how to make a sleek design.”

Winter turned her attention to the new fighter ships that were forced upon her, grimacing slightly. They were stream lined and coated in a layer of white with a snowy blue tint, as was ever common with the Schnee Dust Corporation's designs and uniforms. She turned her attention back down to her officers as she heard Katt's excitable voice. “Are you kidding Flynt! These are more than sleek, they're sublime. Oh, they barely weigh anything, are rumoured to be fast even in the void, and are packed with experimental dust weaponry. And do you know what's the best part?”

Officer Coal took a step backward holding up his hands in a calming gesture with a smile on his face. “No, but you're about to tell me.”

“WE GET TO TEST THEM OUT!” Katt jumped high into the air in excitement, laughing as she rushed off to see to their loading and system checks personally. Winter's grimace turned into a slight smile at see her officer's apparent joy at the prospect of new technology to test and learn. Shaking her head, she resumed her path. She passed many more faces and junior officers on her way, each giving her the Atlesian Salute. She responded to most with a curt nod.

Within the hour she finally stepped through the doorway leading into the command centre, the central nervous system of The Nevermore. As soon as she stepped through the door she heard the voice of her CCO cutting through the hum of machines and crew. “Captain on deck!” Every soul stood to attention, and with a nod from Winter, each resumed their duties in preparing the battleship for launch. Stepping onto the raised dais from which she could see the entire bridge, she slowly sank down onto the throne. Leaning back and closing her eyes, she heard the footsteps stop next to her as her CCO took their place by her side. “So Captain, what arse end of the galaxy are we being sent to this time?”

She responded with a tired sigh, slowly opening her eyes to look out across the bridge, and out the glass at the stars. “We're to patrol the border between the Mistrali Sector and the Vale Expanse.”

“The Expanse? Didn't the SDC call it a waste of expenses? Why are we being sent there?”

“Because, Miss Sustrai, there have been increased raids into our territory from the expanse. One of them stole some experimental technology, and it's our job to hunt them down and get it back.”

Emerald let out a small laugh. Winter looked at her with a raised an eyebrow, catching her trying to cover up the laugh by coughing into her fist. “We don't get given the easy assignments do we?”

“Not as long as it's my father calling the shots.”

“Do we even have a name of who we're to hunt?”

Winter shook her head, drumming her fingers on the arm of the throne. “All we have to go on is a boisterous laugh and long golden hair. They were unable to even get the name of the ship.”

“Well, we've had worse assignments. Should be more fun than the last one right?”

“Here I thought you enjoyed our time on Xurus Secondus.” Winter allowed a small smile on her face.

“If I never see those green skies again, or another Megapede it'll be too soon.” The Chief Command Officer shivered in disgust at the recollection of the monstrosity, and the feeling of being crushed in it's mandibles.

“Thankfully no Megapede’s this time. Just pirates.”

Emerald nodded, and looked at the data-slate in her hand. She fell silent as she swiped through a few reports, managing the other officers spread throughout the ship. “We're almost set. Coal just finished down in the Hanger, and security is running a final sweep.”

“Good. The sooner we're away the better.”

“Any news on your sister?”

Winter gently shook her head. “Father sent her out to oversee a financial mission. And we both know what that means. Too many questions, or too much rebellion from her.”

“Maybe we could...pick her up from the mission?”

“If we happen to run across The Silent Breeze I'll consider it. For now, let us be away. Give the order Miss Sustrai.”

“By your command, Captain.” She typed a quick message into the data-slate, sending it off before calling out to the bride. In accordance to their new orders it erupted into controlled chaos. The Nevermore detached from the orbital docking, side thrusters burning hot as they pushed the ship away from the station. When they fell silent the main engine flared up. As the battleship slowly pulled away from Outpost Mandolin, crowds gathered at the view ports to watch it sail into the void. A bright flare of blue light signalled the jump engines kicking in, and the regal ship vanished without a trace.

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Weiss was little better than a prisoner aboard The Silent Breeze. Kept in isolation and confined to her quarters throughout the voyage, she huffed in frustration as she threw her personal data-slate onto the bed. The room would be considered nice under normal circumstances, connected to a personal bathroom and even a small kitchen, she had everything she needed except freedom. Ostensibly, she was there to be the lead negotiator between the Schnee Dust Corporation and the rising Argus Augmentics. In reality, she was being sent as far away from home as her father could. She had started asking to many questions about the ethics behind his company, and how much influence he had in the Atlas Empire. What had followed was a shouting match and similar confinement to her room in the mansion.

The next day she was shoved onto the cruiser and sent off into the void. Now, on her third week into the voyage, she was losing any semblance of patience. Pacing around the confines of the room, she began to plot her escape. Every few hours a guard checked on her, making sure she had everything she needed. The guard had been kind so far. If she played the cards right she might be able to convince him to let her out. The only other possibility was to knock him out. She looked around her quarters and felt her heart sink. Nothing was large or strong enough to knock someone out, the largest item she could use was a wooden spoon.

Sitting down on her bed, she picked back up the data-slate and passed the time waiting for the guard's visit by going through the mission briefing. Argus Augmentics had started off just designing prosthetics, but had recently been developing further enhancements that could be installed into the body. So far they had been designed to aid civilian life, such as adding cybernetics into the brain to aide with learning new languages or skills, upgraded prosthetics that could swap between different tools, and new eyes for the blind. Now they had begun research in weaponizing these augmentations and experimenting with Dust, which had drawn the eye of the SDC. A prototype had already been developed in union between the two, but had been stolen by pirates.

Weiss frowned at this, trying to find out more about the prototype, but those files were locked to her. With another huff of annoyance she threw the slate onto the bed next to her again, just as a knock sounded on the door. “Miss Schnee, permission to enter?” The guard had arrived just on time.

“Of course, please enter Mr. Arc.”

The door slid open, revealing the blonde guard on the other side. He held a kind smile as he brought in a tray of tea, placing it down on the coffee table. “Good Day Miss Weiss. We're still a few days out from our destination.”

“You've been saying that for the last week, Mr. Arc. I no longer believe it.”

“Really Miss, it won't be much longer until we reach Argus.”

“And once we're there, how much longer must I wait in here before I'm allowed out?” She glared angrily, before letting out a soft sigh and tried adopting a softer smile. “Please, Mr. Arc. All I want is to see something other than the inside of this room.”

“You know I can't do that. It's against the rules...”

“What trouble am I going to get up to? I just want to stretch my legs.”

“Miss...”

“What if you were to accompany me? I couldn't get into any trouble with such a strong guard looking after me.” The guard felt his cheeks redden slightly, though her stood straighter at the complimentary comments.

“Well...I suppose a little walk down the view-port corridor couldn't hurt...if you were under guard.”

“Thank you Mr. Arc. I promise to behave myself.” Weiss stood up and moved to the door, waiting for the guard to follow. He took a minute to look at the tea, sadden that the effort had gone to waste, then shrugged and escorted Weiss out of the room. The two walked in silence. Weiss was enjoying her newfound, temporary, freedom from the room. A plan began to formulate in her mind on how to change it from temporary to permanent. “Thank you, for letting me stretch my legs, Mr. Arc.”

“Please, my name is Jaune.”

“Well, Jaune, I am sorry about this.” Before he could question what she meant, she grabbed hold of his arm and shoved him into a open maintenance closet. “I have no intention of making it to Argus. I'll not be bound by my Father any longer.” Jaune stumbled back to his feet and tried to run back out, but the door slid shut blocking him, sealing him inside.

Fumbling for his communicator, he opened up a channel to the entirety of the ship. “This is Jaune Arc, Weiss Schnee is attempting to escape! Last seen heading towards the View ports!” Weiss swore under her breath and took off running, veering left down a side corridor. She hoped desperately that the ships security would head the wrong direction, and she could make it to the escape pods before she was found. An alarm started blaring and she could hear the sound of boots running down hallways. She slid to a stop, and ducked into a open room as three guards ran past, oblivious to her location. Waiting a few moments, she held her breath, before once more running down the hallway towards her freedom.

Just as hope flared in her upon seeing the escape pods, a hand grabbed the back of her coat. The fabric ripped, and she was tripped onto the floor. Looking up, she was greeted by a malicious grin and grey eyes. “Well well, looks like I found the escaped song bird.” She scrambled to her knees and tried to crawl away, but two more guards blocked the path to the pods. “Inform the captain that I'll be bringing Miss Schnee to the bridge.”

“Yes Sir!” One of the guards saluted and ran off, while Weiss was roughly picked up off the floor and dragged away from the pods. She struggled to the best of her ability, but her captors just tightened their grips on her arms. Dragged throughout the ship she passed uncaring faces, focused on their own jobs and caring not for her plight. It took half an hour, but eventually she was thrown before the dais of The Silent Breeze's Captain.

“What do we have here, Mr. Black?” The captain was a large, heavyset man, the uniform barely still able to fit him as he lounged in his throne. Fat fingers were choked with rings, which drummed on the arm of his seat as his cruel eyes looked down at Weiss. She felt small in that moment, and when the captain licked his lips she felt more like a piece of meat before the monstrosity rather than a fellow human.

“The little Princess here got it in her head to try to escape. Found her trying to climb into a escape pod.”

“Is that so?” The throne creaked and groaned as the captain lent forward, appraising Weiss. “That's no good. How do we get paid if we don't deliver her to Argus hmm?”

Weiss frowned, and felt her blood go cold. “D-deliver?”

“Oh, didn't Daddy tell you? Did you think you were here to negotiate a deal?” The captain's smile grew sadistic as he carried on. “Oh no little princess. You are the deal. I heard they were going to use you to test out their new cybernetics. Turn you into the perfect little soldier. Or, perhaps a toy? I wonder how much people would pay for you hmm?”

Weiss looked at the captain with undisguised disgust, and attempted to move away. She was stopped by the foot of Mercury Black, the commander of security. “Now now, Captain Gole. We're meant to deliver her in the state she's in. I have strict orders to stop anyone from doing anything...untoward.”

The captain opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a bright flash filtering through the viewport from the void. “What in the Maiden's name was that!” Everyone has shielded their eyes, and when they finally looked they found their ship face to face with a battle cruiser. It hung their in space silently, before two more bright flashes erupted from its front. The Silent Breeze shuddered as two lasers pierced it, carving out huge segments. The sirens resumed their warning cry and the bridge erupted into chaos. “Shit! Get us out of here!”

The Silent Breeze's side thrusters began to burn hot, trying to turn the cruiser towards freedom. It was a futile endeavour as the two lances of light shot forth again, carving out the main engines and leaving it dead in the void. Pandemonium reigned aboard, during which Weiss was almost forgotten. She contemplated taking the chance to flee to the escape pods, but guards still stood at the doors into the bridge. Mercury had disappeared during the turmoil, and Captain Gole was yelling at his crew. Fear was evident on his face, hands turning white from the force used to grip his chair. Fires had spread across the lower decks of the ship, and debris was sucked out into the vacuum through the holes caused by the battle cruiser's attack. Once more the two lances shot forth, and The Silent Breeze was robbed of even it's thrusters. Weiss looked out the the glass to see several smaller ships launch from the metal behemoth. Each one was headed towards different parts of the ship. Most angled towards where the cargo was stored, but one was headed directly towards the bridge. The Captain noticed it as well, and began to panic. “Close the Blast Shields! Close them now!”

Metal shutters started to slowly crawl over the glass, but the order was given too late. The vessel crashed right through the glass, sealing the hole with it's own size. Several crewman were crushed beneath in, and Weiss could see that the vessel was a escape pod modified for boarding actions rather than escaping. The hatch slowly opened up, filling the bridge with steam and smoke as three figures emerged. The central figure wore a brown duster with the right arm tied up. Long golden locks fell down her back, and her remaining hand rested on the grip of a pistol still in it's holster. To her right and left were two Faunus's, One with raven black hair, the other with light brown. They each held a rifle stolen from the Atlas Military which were pointed at the remaining guards on the bridge. “Good Day Ladies and Gentlemen! I hope we find you in good health and in a wealthy enough disposition to help those down on their luck!” The blonde radiated a confident energy that cowed most of the crew, and even the guards sank to their knees with their hands on the back of their heads.

The Captain, however, was to furious to realise the danger he was in. “We'll do no bartering with filthy pirates like you!” He slowly stood to his feet and pulled out a pistol, aiming right at the pirate's leader. “How dare you attack my ship! Do you know who I am!”

“Captain Gole Retriever. Lap dog for Jacques Schnee, doing supply runs and overseeing the man's more...illicit activities. Such as collecting slaves, black mail, extortion, and much much more.” The cat faunus smirked as she spoke, moving the rifle to aim at the Captain. “Yes, we know who you are. But do you know who we are?”

Gole turned white as his crimes were laid before him in such a factly manner, and he reappraised the situation. He could feel the eyes of his newer crew looking at him in disgust. “What does it matter who you are!”

“Captain...that's the New Dawn out there...They're the Sun Dragoons.” One of his guards chipped in from the side. He was shot a disgusted look from Gole, before what he said was processed.

“Oh, I see at least some of you know us. Let me introduce myself. I am Yang, leader of the Sun Dragoons. And one way or another we will be leaving with your goods and money. Question is, will you make it easy for us?”

Weiss was yanked to her feet with a yelp, and held in front of Gole towards Yang. “L-look, I was just following orders, alright? I don't want no trouble, and I'm not willing to die for Jacques. Just, take her. We were meant to deliver her for experimentation. Take her and any cargo we have, just leave my money.”

The two Faunus looked at each other in the back, eyebrows raised. Their leader however looked shell shocked, before straining to smile. “Interesting proposition you've made there. Why don't you let me have a look at that pretty creature?”

Weiss was pushed forward towards Yang unceremoniously, nearly tripping. She was caught by Yang, and made to stand straight. “Please...help me.” Yang raised an eyebrow at Weiss's plea, before winking at her and turning back to Gole.

“Alright, we'll take the lass. But there's one addendum to your offer.”

“What's tha-” He never got to finish his question as Yang pulled her gun from it's holster and blasted a hole in the man's chest. Weiss screamed in shock, covering her ears at the noise. Yang placed the weapon away, and gently took Weiss's hand, leading her to the boarding pod. As they climbed back up, the rabbit Faunus gently lead her into the vessel and sat her down. Yang stood by the entrance and called out.

“Anyone who had no idea of Gole's crimes, and wants a second chance at life, this is your one and only chance. Join us, come with me and learn what it means to be free. Or stay here, trapped and stranded in the void.” The defeated crew looked at each other, a few stood and tentatively walked up the ramp into the vessel. The rest stood their ground. The blonde shook her head sadly. “You may want to leave the bridge.” With a swirl of her coat she retreated further into her vessel as the door closed behind her. She passed by those who had decided to join her, and paused when she reached Weiss. “You're safe now Miss.”

“T-thank you.” Weiss swallowed nervously. “But...where are you taking me?”

Yang smiled as the boarding pod pulled away from The Silent Breeze, causing debris and bodies to be pulled out into space. “We're taking you to Beacon, where all men and women are free.”

#winter schnee #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #Blake Belladonna #velvet scarlatina #emerald sustrai #mercury black #Jaune Arc #flynt coal #neon katt #elderburn #frappuccino

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